The Attractions of Abduction
by Piccolo is green
Summary: AU V/B. Accidentally attracting Vegeta's attention, Bulma finds herself in the hands of the Saiyan Prince. Forced to revive Vegetasei and its inhabitants, the heiress begins to realise that good and evil aren't always easy to define. ON HIATUS
1. A Change in Plans

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z**

**A/N:** This idea has been floating around in my head for some time now, and it's gotten to the point where I have to write it down. This is an AU Vegeta/Bulma story. It begins in the Saiyan Saga.

To understand what's going on, you need to know that Bulma has snuck onto the battlefield, and is hidden behind some rocks, watching as the Saiyans and Earthlings decide to face each other. No one knows that she is there.

* * *

**PART ONE: Walk in the Footsteps of Another**

Chapter One: A Change in Plans

Bulma peered over the rocks that hid her, biting down hard on her lip in order to stop herself from screaming with fear. It wasn't the Saiyans that scared her- in fact, she thought the smaller one was quite attractive, in that dark, smouldering way- it was the little green things they grew.

_Those_ were scary.

Then Tien stepped forward, and the fighting began. Bulma's eyes widened as she watched with disgust as one green thing split it's head open and spat out acid, nearly frying little Gohan. For the most part though, it was all too fast to see.

Then suddenly the green thing was down.

Bulma had to fight the urge not to yell out to her friends when she saw the ugly creature begin to get up again, but before she even had a chance to open her mouth the alien exploded, it's guts spattering on the ground.

Bulma shook as she looked to the smaller alien, the one who she had thought handsome. His arm was outstretched, and an evil grin was plastered on his face.

_Monster_, Bulma thought. That was the only word for a man who would kill his own ally.

Not for the first time, she watched in awe as her on-and-off boyfriend stepped forward and volunteered to fight the green bugs first. She tightened her grip on the rocks, praying to Kami that Yamcha would be okay. And where was Son Goku? The dragon said he had been wished back.

Suddenly Yamcha disappeared, and Bulma let out a small cry before she could stop herself. Quickly, she crouched back down behind the rock, hoping that nobody had heard her. The last thing she needed was some scary alien finding out that she was there.

* * *

Vegeta turned his head away from the fight suddenly, his eyes roaming across the rocks to his left. He had heard something, he was sure of it, something close to a scream. Quickly, he checked his scouter, but nothing significant showed up. He looked to Nappa to see if he had noticed anything, but the big idiot was too engrossed in watching the fight.

_Typical_, Vegeta thought to himself, and turned his attention back to the Saibamen.

* * *

Yamcha knew he had won. The Saibaman was easy to take down, and he realized with a fresh wave of relief that he was now in a different league from the green freaks. He said so to his friends, and turned to taunt the aliens in front of him.

He should have never let his guard down.

Too late he turned around, and then the Saibaman had him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar flash of blue from behind the rocks.

_Bulma_, he thought, before the world suddenly went black.

Bulma blinked with disbelief, frowning as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. Her breath was caught in her throat, and it felt like her heart had stopped. She tried to stay calm, but it didn't work. Her breath was coming quicker, her legs working before she even realized what she was doing,

"Yamcha!" she screamed as she rushed onto the battlefield, throwing herself at her lover's body. "Yamcha!" she cried again, tears running down her face.

Around her, Earth's fighters stared in shock, wondering what the hell she was doing there.

* * *

Vegeta couldn't help but smile. In all his life, he had never been so unexpectedly surprised than now, to see some weakling woman run onto the battlefield with no thought for her own personal safety. He eyed the creature appreciatively, noting the way her blue hair shone in the sun.

_Ugh, but she cries too much_.

"Bulma," Krillin said, stepping forward to put a protective arm around his friend. "Now's not the time for you to be here, the Saiyans are very dangerous. You have to go."

"No!" Bulma screamed, wrenching herself out of Krillin's grip. Before he could stop her, she was marching over to the Saiyans, ignoring the snarls of the Saibamen around her.

"You!" she spat vehemently, poking the smaller man in the chest. "You killed him! How dare you! What is the point of this, you disgusting freak? Don't you realize if you kill us all you won't ever find the dragonballs! We're the only ones who know how to get them! You're as stupid as you look, you ugly little monkey!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously at the woman who dared to invade his personal space. His tail unwound to flick angrily behind him, the fur bristling as he snarled.

"You sealed your fate the moment you called me a monkey," he told her, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. He reached for her neck, intending to snap it, when a thought suddenly struck him.

_She knows how to get dragonballs, she said so herself. Dragonballs obviously come from Namekians. Namekians come from Namek. Surely, the original planet will house more powerful orbs than the ones on this planet, and I don't have any time to waste… I need to be immortal before Frieza finds out, his spies are everywhere._

"Nappa," he snapped, throwing the noisy female over his shoulder, "change of plans. We're going straight to Namek." He took off, ignoring the screams of the woman as he fished out his controller and recalled the space pods.

_Soon. Soon I will rule the universe._


	2. Somebody's Girl is Stolen

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z**

Chapter Two: Somebody's Girl is Stolen

Bulma screamed as the Saiyan flew higher, desperately clawing at his armoured back, trying to get away. "Put me down!" she screamed, "Put me DOWN!"

"Fine," he said coldly, and with a sudden lurch of the stomach that indicated she had made a big mistake, Bulma found herself falling, the air whistling past her ears. She screamed again, this time an incoherent babble of noise, before finding herself hanging upside down, mere meters from the ground.

With her head pounding from a sudden rush of blood, Bulma looked up, whimpering as she stared into the steely eyes of the small Saiyan. Her ankle ached as his grip tightened, his furry tail twisting around the base of her leg.

"You said 'put me down,'" he taunted, shaking her about, "so I merely complied. However it seems to me that you weren't quite happy with that arrangement, so I'm giving you another option. Either I kill you now, or you come with me to Namek… which one will it be?"

Bulma groaned and twisted, wishing that she had never come anywhere near the battlefield. She screamed again as the Saiyan lifted her up and grabbed onto the back of her neck, fighting as hard as she could against the strong pressure he was placing on her. Her vision began to fade, pools of black suddenly invading the blue sky above, before she finally knew no more.

"Pathetic," Vegeta snarled, before tossing the woman into his pod. With a final glance over at Nappa, he climbed into the cramped interior, maneuvering so that the woman lay beside him. Closing the door, he input the necessary data for the next journey, before closing his eyes and leaning back, allowing the hissing gas to send him back into stasis sleep.

On the edge of sleep, the voice of the pod's computer reached him.

_"Next destination: Planet Namek."_

* * *

"You should have stopped them, Piccolo. You're the strongest of us all."

"Why?" Piccolo replied, turning to stare down at Krillin, "That woman is of no importance to me. If I recall correctly, it's _you people_ that are friends with her. You should have stopped them. Don't go expecting me to risk my neck for some pathetic Human who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Krillin frowned, staring up at the disappearing pods. He swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat, and considered his options.

"Who's going to tell the Briefs that their daughter just got abducted by aliens?" he asked, eyeing up Tien.

"I don't think we have to tell them," Chiaotzu replied, pointing to the massing group of paparazzi, "I think they already know."

* * *

"My, that small one looked handsome! Do you think he could be husband material?" Mrs. Briefs asked, grinning at the TV before turning to her husband. "He seemed to like Bulma. I suppose I'll just be cooking for me and you tonight dear. When do you think she'll be back?"

Dr. Briefs drew on his cigarette again, taking the time to blow out a large cloud of smoke before answering. "I don't know," he replied, a frown deepening behind his glasses, "but I think I'm going to talk to that Goku boy, he's supposed to be getting back today. Don't worry dear; I'm sure she won't be gone for too long."

The Capsule Corp. scientist got up at that, taking the familiar path of hallways and sliding doors down to his private lab. Inside he pulled out his latest designs for spaceships, wondering how on Earth he was going to get his little girl back this time.

* * *

Goku flew as fast as he could, ignoring the sweat that pooled into his eyes, and the burning in his chest as he drew every breath. He was doing everything he could possibly do, and yet he couldn't fight the dreaded feeling that it just wasn't enough.

Finally after what seemed like years, he spotted the end of Snake Way. Making the final jump, he landed quickly inside Yemma's castle, almost running into one of the horned workers there. Spotting Kami, he sprinted over to his former trainer, but stopped short when he noticed the pained look spread across the old alien's face.

"You're too late Goku," Kami said solemnly, "The Saiyans have already left."

"Earth is gone!" Goku cried, stepping back in shock.

"No, no," Kami said reassuringly, "only one city was wiped out… it sounds bad, but I was expecting worse. No, they killed Yamcha, then left. They took that friend of yours, Bulma Briefs, with them."

"What?" Goku asked with a frown, blinking as he tried to make sense of what Kami said. "Why would the Saiyans take Bulma?"

* * *

_**Two weeks later**_

Bulma woke with a groan, gagging as she noticed the foul taste in her mouth. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to sit up, only to find that her head bumped into something hard above. Looking around, she suddenly took in the blinking lights, red cushioning, cramped quarters, and the furry thing lying on her leg.

"Agh!" she screamed, kicking out her feet, "Get it off! Get it off!" She whimpered as the furry thing moved suddenly and flickered over her face, before she finally realized that it wasn't some oversized rat.

It was even worse: a Saiyan tail.

"I'm dreaming," she whispered to herself as she stared out at the endless stars. From beside her came a deep chuckle that sent shivers up her spine.

"I doubt it," the Saiyan said, his eyes glinting in the artificial light, "In fact, I can guarantee that you're wide awake. You're not on Earth anymore, little one."

Bulma pressed herself further against the wall of the small ship, but to no avail. The pod was tiny, and no matter how she tried, there was always part of her body touching _his_. Worst of all, in the cold confines of space, she found herself inexplicably drawn to the warmth he radiated, despite her brain telling her over and over again how bad he was.

She shivered again as she remembered the sight of Yamcha lying defeated on the ground, and bit her lip to stop herself from crying in front of the heartless Saiyan. Like she often did, she worked on turning her hurt into anger. She had found over the years that people always listened to her more when she was mad.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" she spat, glaring at the alien. She expected him to be angry, but all he did was stare at her indifferently.

"There's no need for you to be so touchy, woman," he informed her, a feral grin stretching across his mouth, "You don't want me to have to knock you out again. Like I've told you before, we're going to Namek. You will help me in retrieving the dragonballs there."

"What makes you think I know anything about collecting dragonballs?" she asked, trying desperately to keep a level voice. Inside, she was beginning to panic. _Namek, I don't even know where Namek is! What if the air quality is poisonous for Humans? What if the gravity is too much? I could die!_

"You said so, in that little speech you gave back on Earth. You _better_ know about the dragonballs, otherwise I might as well just kill you now." His tail moved to wrap slowly around her wrist, squeezing hard until she cried out in pain.

"Okay, okay!" she admitted, "I know about the dragonballs. I've searched for them before." He released her and she gingerly rubbed her wrist, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"There's still an hour before we land," the alien informed her, his eyes moving to gaze out the small, round window. "Just enough time for you to tell me everything you know on the subject."

"Fine," she huffed indignantly, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Just don't hurt me again, okay? And my name's Bulma."

The alien looked at her, one eyebrow rising slowly as his dark eyes continued to stare.

"Vegeta."

* * *

**A/N:** The time spent traveling in those space pods seems to vary throughout DBZ, so I've just given the reasonable time of two weeks to get from Earth to Namek. Bulma and Vegeta were just asleep the whole time (I suppose it's just like hibernation, it's not like they can go to the toilet in those little things!)

Please tell me what you think; I always worry about getting Vegeta right.


	3. Landing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Three: Landing

Vegeta growled low in his throat as he cursed his impatience. The female had done as he asked, and told him everything about the dragonballs, _including_ the fact that they were extremely difficult to find, and that the only equipment she had for finding them was back on Earth.

"You ought to carry a backup radar on you," he snapped at the woman, who had decided to stretch her long legs across his, "and keep to your side of the pod!"

"My legs are getting cramped!" she retorted, frowning at him again, "And it's not my fault that I didn't know I was going to get kidnapped! Sheesh!"

"Just shut up!" he snarled again, clamping a gloved hand over her mouth. She squealed, her fingers raking at his arm, but he refused to move. Eventually, she gave up, falling silent and slumping back against the faux leather cushioning. Vegeta withdrew his hand, using both arms instead to gather up her legs, and pushed them back over to the small space he had assigned her. He was just beginning to relax when noise interrupted him again.

"Vegeta, we're almost there," informed Nappa over the pod's intercom.

"I know that, you idiot," Vegeta replied, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of his subordinate. _He's beginning to be nothing but a liability… perhaps I should get rid of him soon._

"How's that little female doing? Still alive? Did she have the information we need?" Nappa continued, ignorant of the dangerous thoughts his Prince was entertaining.

"My name is Bulma!" yelled the woman, making Vegeta cringe again. She really was excessively loud, especially considering that they were only in a tiny pod.

"Oooh_, Bulma_," Nappa teased. "Well, sweetheart, I'll be happy to call you whatever you want. In fact, I'd like to get to know you _a lot_ better."

"Eww gross!" Bulma retorted, "As if I would ever get with you, you ugly ape!"

"Whatever," came Nappa's laughing voice, "it's not like I'm going to give you a choice. So get used to your new status as my whore."

Vegeta's frown deepened. For some reason he disliked the idea of Nappa playing with the woman, and wondered briefly why he would care. It didn't usually bother him when Nappa fooled around with the women they came across on purging missions, although he never engaged in sexual activity with any of the purging victims himself. Shrugging off the nagging feeling, he tried to ignore the shaking Earthling beside him. "She's off limits," he told Nappa, "we may need her knowledge later. I don't want you messing with her head while she's still useful."

"But…"

"Touch her and you die, Nappa," Vegeta growled angrily, before switching off the intercom.

Beside him, the female cowered, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

* * *

Goku punched the air again, sweat running down his shirtless torso as he executed another series of flips. Below him, his son watched in awe, his little mouth hanging slightly open in surprise at his daddy's speed.

"Goku!" Chi Chi called, stepping out of her small cottage, "Gohan! Come inside, lunch is ready!"

Goku stopped his training, but for once the idea of lunch wasn't that tantalizing. What he really wanted to do was keep training- it was the only time that the guilt about what happened to Bulma subsided. With the knowledge that his oldest friend was still somewhere is space laying heavy on his heart, the young Saiyan followed his son inside, vowing to himself that he would do everything he could to find Bulma.

* * *

"Wow," Bulma breathed, pressing her nose to the window glass, "is that Namek? It's beautiful."

"I suggest you sit back, woman, unless you want to break your neck. Atmosphere entry is always a little shaky."

With a gasp Bulma found herself once again being manhandled by the Saiyan, as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down onto his lap. She wiggled uncomfortably as he locked his arms around her, his warm breath tickling her ear.

"Just sit still," he snapped, his deep voice harsh, "If I don't hold onto you, you're likely to die, and we're not quite done with you yet…" he sighed, adding under his breath "Pathetic weakling."

"I heard that," Bulma grumbled, "it's not my fault you're some freakishly strong alien. Not everyone's like you, you know."

"Of course no one is like me," he retorted with a snort, "I'm the Prince of Saiyans, the greatest warrior in the universe."

For once Bulma was glad to be sitting on his lap. It meant he couldn't see her rolling her eyes.

* * *

"_Capsule Corp.'s founder, Dr. Trunks Briefs, has once again refused to comment on his daughter's kidnapping by aliens. Sources, however, tell us that the scientist may have been in contact with Bulma, and there are rumors that he is planning to build a spaceship in the hope of retrieving her._

_On a side note, there has been criticism on the tardiness of one of Earth's fighters. Son Goku, champion of the twenty-third World Martial Arts Tournament, was expected to face the Saiyans alongside his former rivals, but arrived at the battlefield too late to save the beautiful Capsule Corporation heiress. People continue to ask why he was so delayed in his arrival, and there have recently been calls to revoke the martial artist's title as current…"_

Capsule Corp.'s head scientist switched off the television, making his way back over to the dismantled Saiyan pod. The continuous media coverage of his daughter's disappearance was beyond irritating, and he frowned as he wondered whether he really did have a spy amongst his employees. _Someone's giving the reporters information_, he concluded, _I really hope I don't have to dismiss anyone over this._

There was one thing the old scientist was happy about. He had managed to make a breakthrough with Goku's old pod, and it wouldn't be long before a sturdy ship was constructed, big enough for a few fighters to travel and train in. He was glad that at least Son Goku wanted Bulma back as much as he did, and felt infinitely safer knowing that the young man would risk even life for his daughter.

_Now, I just need to work out where the stereo system will go, and then we can start building it. Let's see…perhaps in by the gravity simulator?_

* * *

The woman squealed as the landing began, digging her sharp nails into Vegeta's thighs. His upper lip pulled back in a snarl, and he once again clamped a hand over the weakling's mouth. He was sorely tempted to just snap the vile creature's neck right then and there, but his logic said otherwise. Last he had heard, the Namekians were peaceful creatures. That, coupled with the fact that they needed to be alive in order for the dragonballs to be viable, meant that the woman would probably be needed as some sort of bargaining tool. _Those green freaks will probably hand the balls right over if I threaten to slit her throat in front of them. _

The ship finally made impact, throwing both occupants forward a little. Bulma let out another muffled cry from behind Vegeta's hand as his other arm tightened around her stomach, making her feel sick. As the movements stopped, he let go of her, and she slumped over, coughing and gagging.

"Gods, you're pathetic," he snarled at her, "Now get out of the way before I step on you."

For her part, she made sure to send him the darkest glare she could muster from under her messed up hair, as the door to the ship began to open.

"Wait!" she cried suddenly, her eyes widening as she realized something. "The atmosphere! What if it's not compatible? We could die of asphyxiation!"

"Fool, I already checked that," the Saiyan told her, slipping out of the cramped pod. He floated there for a moment, staring down at her before rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "You can't fly, can you?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Do I look like Wonder Woman to you?" she snapped back, her shoulders set square in defiance.

With his tail twitching in irritation, and his fingers itching to murder the little wench, he picked her up, throwing her once again over his shoulder. She squirmed and kicked, grunting and yelling, but he simply ignored her. Locating Nappa with his scouter, he took off, grinning as he realized just how close he was now to his goal.


	4. A Chance to Escape

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Four: A Chance to Escape

Thin white fingers wrapped around the wine glass, swirling the contents slowly. After what seemed like hours to the countless minions that stood behind their leader, the small creature in the hover chair finally lifted the glass to his dark lips, sipping the contents at an agonizingly slow pace. Any outsider would have thought the creature was perfectly content, but his followers knew better. The way the tip of his tail flicked repeatedly back and forth was a sure sign of trouble.

"Stupid monkeys," the creature spoke, his nose screwing up as he snarled, "Those stupid, pathetic _monkeys_!"

Around him the servants and soldiers flinched, terrified that this latest outburst would spell the end for them. Cautiously, their eyes shifted to one of Frieza's favourites, begging him silently to do something- _anything_- to calm down their master, before this all got out of hand.

The soldier seemed to understand their silent message, for he stepped forward, kneeling just behind Frieza's chair. "Master," he began, his voice perfectly smooth and calm, just the tone he knew Frieza liked, "they are just two brainless animals, hardly even evolved from a primal state. Many of us are far stronger than they will ever be, especially you, my Lord. They are no threat to us."

"Of course they're no threat!" Frieza screamed, twirling around in the chair, the veins popping out on his head as he leaned closer to the blue-skinned soldier. "I am the strongest being in the universe! No one can defeat me! You tempt death, Zarbon, for even daring to approach my chair without my permission!"

"Sire, please," the beautiful reptilian reasoned, "I only speak out of my love for you, my Lord. I do not wish to see you so mad… it pains me to think that those pathetic apes have caused you such distress. Let me follow them, we know where they are now. I'll bring you back their heads, Master."

Frieza sighed softly, his red eyes slowly examining the alien in front of him, taking in the fine features, soft green hair, and perfectly sculpted body. Slowly he shifted back in his chair, looking out the ship window into the vast emptiness of space.

"No, there's no need for you to follow them," he said softly to Zarbon, an evil grin spreading across his face, "I'll go after Vegeta myself."

* * *

Bulma sighed and lay back on the grass, staring up at the green sky above. Part of her knew that she should be excited- to be the first Human to ever travel to a different planet was a big achievement- but right now she just felt bored. For three hours now she had been sitting on this hill, waiting for the Saiyans to get back. She had contemplated escaping, but how? Vegeta had flown quite a distance before dropping her off, and she'd never get back to one of the space pods before he got back. It's not like she could walk that far…

_I have capsules… I have capsules!_

Suddenly she didn't feel so bored after all. Instead she jumped to her feet, remembering the capsule she had strapped to her upper thigh- the emergency one she had packed just in case the boys needed her help against the Saiyans.

"Damn it! How could I have forgotten it?" she cried as she threw it out, watching as it exploded into a small backpack. She could hardly contain her joy as she fished out the capsules she had put inside- one full of food, another with a hover bike, and another containing weapons. She opened them all, strapping a gun to her waist and packing another in the back of her bike, before choosing a few protein bars to eat. They didn't taste that great, but they'd give her energy, and she was starving.

As she encapsulated the food container once more, she noticed something else she had put in the bag- Raditz's scouter. Looking around to check that Vegeta wasn't coming back yet, she picked the scouter up and positioned it over her ear, switching it on. Automatically it beeped, numbers tracing across the screen as it gave the directions to all near power levels.

She sighed as she picked up the two large ones, over a hundred miles away. It would be Vegeta and Nappa, and judging by the distance, there would still be time for her to escape. She had managed to convert the language on this scouter into Earth's alphabet, so it shouldn't be too hard to do the same for the ship, and then program it to send her back home. Smiling at just how much of a genius she was, she slung the backpack over her shoulders, jumped on the bike, and headed back in the direction on the nearest pod.

"We should get her some food too, Vegeta. I bet she's hungry."

Bulma skidded to a stop, her heart beating wildly as she looked around, expecting to see the big Saiyan beside her. When she realized that she was alone, she began to think that she was going crazy. _But his voice sounded so real, and so close!_

"She's pretty scrawny, I don't think she'd eat that much. Maybe a leg would do her. Do you think she eats raw meat?" Nappa's voice spoke again.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Vegeta's voice grumbled in reply. "If you're so worried about feeding her Nappa, just bring her back some meat. Quite frankly, your sudden sentimentality towards the female scares me."

"Ha! I just thought that if I buttered her up, you know, then maybe she might be willing to… you have to admit, Vegeta, she's a nice piece of ass."

By now Bulma had realized where the voices were coming from- the scouter. It was transmitting the Saiyan's voices back to her, just as Raditz had told them about Earth through the device. She screwed her face up in horror at the idea of ever sleeping with ugly Nappa, shuddering as she pictured it. And he smelt so bad too…

"I already told you, Nappa, she's off limits."

"But, if she's willing…"

"No!" Vegeta's voice yelled through the scouter, making her flinch. She quietly got back on the bike, aware that she couldn't make too much noise or she would risk being discovered. It would probably have been safer to switch the scouter back off, but she was too curious now, wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. Besides, she needed to keep tabs on their whereabouts.

"When's the last time you were with a woman, anyway?" Nappa asked.

"That's none of your business, Nappa."

"It's not healthy, Vegeta. A man needs a good fuck every once in a while. Every day would be nice, actually. Damn Frieza making us spend half our lives in bloody stasis sleep… I could be out there fu…"

"Will you shut up!" Vegeta yelled. "I don't care how much you want to fuck, you dip shit! I don't want to hear about it! Now, let's hurry and get back to that woman, before she runs off. She's surprisingly intelligent, but reckless. In fact, she's trying to escape right now, and she has Raditz's scouter on, don't you, little one?"

Bulma let out a gasp before she could stop herself, and was rewarded with the sound of Vegeta's laughter; an evil, cold cackling noise.

"Did you really think the sound of whatever contraption you're on wouldn't go unnoticed? Nappa may be daft, but I am not, Earth woman. I know you're listening, and I suggest you turn back around right now, and go back to where I left you. Do not make the mistake of thinking you can get to the ships before me."

"O… okay," Bulma whispered in reply, her whole body shaking with fear.

* * *

Nappa could tell that she'd been crying from the redness of her eyes, and the wet glint of her cheeks. He grunted in disappointment and set down the small dinosaur leg in front of her. He hated it when women cried; it made him miss the women of his home planet even more. A Saiyan woman would never shed tears.

This woman just looked up at him with her big, pale eyes and sniffled, blinking as though she were lost. His frown deepened at the pathetic sight; it seemed that in the few hours they had been gone all the fire had been sucked out of her. _Shame_, he thought, _she was so lively this morning._

"I can cook it if you want," he told her when she made no move towards the meat.

"What?" she asked, blinking at the leg in front of her. It seemed to take a while for her brain to process what it was, but Nappa smiled when he finally got a reaction more like the kind of woman he wanted.

"Eww yuck!" she exclaimed, crawling back across the grass, "You don't seriously expect me to eat that, do you?"

"It's the only food on the planet," he replied, "unless you wanna try eating a Namek baby... they might taste better."

"You're a monster," she hissed in reply.

"Last chance," he informed her, picking up the leg.

"Go ahead. I have my own food," and with that she turned her back to him, her shoulders hunched tightly.

Nappa merely shrugged, before biting into the dripping meat.

Now that they had started, Bulma couldn't stop the flow of tears. She didn't know what she was crying for anymore; it could have been for Yamcha, or because she missed Earth and would probably never see it again, or from the constant fear that these monsters would give her something even worse than death. Whatever it was, it made the hot tears run down her cheeks, and made her chest constrict with small sobs.

"Why are you crying?" Nappa asked, peering down at her from where she sat in his arms. They were currently flying to the nearest Namekian village, and the wind made her shiver despite the warmth that the big Saiyan gave off.

She simply shrugged in reply, another sob racking her body as she lent into the giant's torso. It was horrible, the whole thing was horrible. She was on her way to help these monsters gain the dragonballs for some crazy reason that Vegeta refused to say, and she was in the arms of the man who wanted to rape her, who also happened to stink. She couldn't even get away from the smell, because if she moved her head from the crook of his body, the sheer force of the wind prevented her from breathing. She felt empty, sick, and cold, and for once in her life, she couldn't think of any good way to get herself out of the situation.

"Women from my planet don't cry," he told her, looking back out into the distance.

"I thought they were all dead," she mumbled.

He looked down at her again, and she was shocked to see something flash in his eyes, just for a second. "They are," he said, his voice thick with repressed emotion.

For the first time, Bulma realized that perhaps there was more to the Saiyans than she originally thought.

* * *

**A/N:** Lol, it probably seems like I'm giving Nappa too much screen time, but it's important for later. More B/V action will come up next chapter. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I really appreciate getting feedback.


	5. The First Ball

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Five: The First Ball

"Elder!" Dende called, his heart pounding in his chest as he forced his little legs to run. "Elder!"

"I know, child," Elder Mori replied, clutching the little boys to him. "Do not fear. Be strong. Our warriors will not let them hurt you."

"But they're so strong!" Cargo cried, his small green hands wrapping themselves around Mori's leg. "I'm scared!"

"I'm scared!" cried another child. Again and again, the cries of the little ones filled the villages, just as they filled their older brothers' arms. Eyeing each other with looks both worried and knowing, the older Namekians did their best to calm the children down, clutching them to their chests, whispering the ancient lullabies taught to them by the Great Elder.

These brave men and boys looked to the sky, green eyebrows pulled down into a tight frown, as they stood ready to face their destiny.

* * *

"Are you going to kill them?" Bulma asked in a whisper after Nappa's scouter beeped, signaling that they were now close to the first village.

"Maybe," the big Saiyan replied.

"They're innocent people. How can you kill another creature that lives and breathes like you do?" she asked, shivering again.

"You Earthlings eat meat, don't you? You eat plants? They're all live… and you kill them. What's the difference?"

"Meat from animals! They don't have any higher brain function! They don't think like us! They don't have reason… how can you compare a Namek to a cow? They're two different things entirely! A Namek is a person just like you and me!"

"You are not like me," the Saiyan replied, looking down at Bulma, "You are not like me at all. Saiyans are Saiyans. Earthlings are Earthlings. Nameks are Nameks. You are different. You are disposable."

"So are you," Bulma hissed back. "If I'm not like you, well you're not like me. Don't come crying when you realize you should have put differences aside a long time ago."

Vegeta's harsh laugh broke the intense stare between Nappa and his cargo, as the Prince came flying in close to look Bulma in the eye. "You are not in a position to make threats, little one," he smirked, throwing his head back in a full blown laugh at her exasperated expression, "although I too would like to see Nappa cry!"

Nappa bit on his tongue, holding back yet another remark to his superior. He had learnt his lesson long ago, back with Vegeta's father, the King. Never again, did he ever speak back to a Saiyan royal. Instead, he let them walk all over him.

_It's better than being dead_, he consoled himself, _at least I'm still around now_.

* * *

Vegeta touched down in the centre of the village, grinning as he felt the waves of fear come flying out to greet him. This was what he lived for- anarchy and destruction, fear and hate and death. It made his blood boil and his tail want to thrash, and his hands ache to fill with ki blasts strong enough to decimate entire planets.

Most of all, it made him feel _alive_. And in the depths of Frieza's enslavement, this rebellion made him feel better than he could ever remember.

"I'm here for the dragonballs," he said, taking time to stare each of the older ones in the eye, "and don't even think about acting like you don't know what they are, because I already have confirmation that you do." He motioned to the woman, who was now standing unsteadily on her own feet, before turning back to the Namekians. "Now speak up," he ordered.

"The dragonballs are not to be used for evil purposes such as yours, son," a wrinkled old man said, stepping forward. "You cannot have them."

"Now, I think that's unfair discrimination," Vegeta replied, the corner of his mouth pulling up once more, "I haven't even told you why I want them yet. What makes you think that my purpose is… evil?"

To his credit the old Namek stood his ground, not flinching under the Saiyan Prince's gaze. "I can sense it, young one," he told the Saiyan, "I can feel it in your heart. You are filled by hate and rage… but most of all by pain. I am sorry that you have been so hurt in your short life, young man. I have lived far longer than you, but I have not been through half as much. Go now, and I will forgive that you ever came here and threatened our people."

Vegeta's face went through a series of changes as the elder's words hit him; shock, humiliation, and finally rage. His tail came undone from its resting place, bristling and lashing out behind him, while his lips pulled back in a full snarl, his eyes widening with fury.

"You think you know so much, old man!" he screamed, "Well I know more! Do not presume to know me! Do not presume to understand my history! I do not care what you think, you disgusting green freak! If you think I'm bad, _he_ is a lot worse! And if it isn't me, then it will be him who takes your dragonballs and your life! Tell me where those dragonballs are now, or die!"

"No."

Mori gasped as the blast tore through his abdomen, sending him keeling over. Around him, the other Namekians moved to stand beside him, but he told them to stay back in his gasping breath. All the time, he never took his eyes off the young Saiyan with too much hurt in his heart.

"Tell me!" Vegeta screamed again, his ki flaming around him. "Tell me!" He snarled again and shot down a child, then another, and another. And then the useless woman was in his way, tugging at his arm, begging him to stop, tears flowing freely down her perfect face. For a moment Vegeta felt as if he was suspended in a void with just her, this strange blue nymph who was the opposite of him.

The moment passed.

"Tell me or I kill her," he said, bringing his ki back under control, and pulling the woman out in front of him. His tail wrapped quickly around her wrists, binding them together, while he pushed her weak body to its knees, one hand tightening expertly around her neck. "You may be willing to sacrifice the lives of your own, old man, but are you willing to play executioner to this innocent third party?" He smirked as he watched the shock move through the Namekian's eyes, knowing that he had already won.

Bulma whimpered as she felt Vegeta's fingers tighten around her neck. She hoped that this wasn't the end of it all… there was still so much she wanted to do with her life!

And then her eyes met with the dying Namek's.

_This is for you, little one_, the old man's voice seemed to tell her, although his lips never moved. _You still have much to give this universe._

Vegeta's hand tightened further, choking her. Then it was gone.

"I knew you would come around," she heard Vegeta say above her head, as she lay slumped on the ground. "Bring it to me."

And then she was being lifted gently, and for once felt happy to be in Nappa's arms, because she was away from Vegeta. She felt the wind around her, and leaned into the big man, welcoming his warmth.

"Just sleep," he told her, "you did well."

As she closed her eyes, she caught the glimpse of something orange flashing beside her.

_Goku_, she thought dreamily, _you came to save me after all_.

* * *

Goku kissed her neck again, grinning against her skin as he felt her writhe beneath him, her breaths coming in soft pants.

"See," he murmured into her shining black hair, "there are benefits to letting Gohan train with Piccolo."

"Mmm hmm," his wife murmured in reply, gasping again when he playfully bit her. He smirked, growling low in his throat as she ran her hands over the furry bump where his tail used to be.

"Ohhh… Chii," he whispered, "you're too beautiful. I love you."

"I love yo…"

"Goku!" came a loud voice, making both of the bed's occupants freeze. "Goku! I found your friend," the voice said again, "she's on… on… uh… am I interrupting something?"

"King Kai!" Goku exclaimed, hastily rolling off his wife and pulling on his shorts. "You found Bulma!"

Chi Chi groaned as she pulled the sheets over herself, making sure to give her husband the 'we're going to talk about this later' look. She hit the pillow beside her angrily, cursing that Bulma Briefs. It seemed her disappearance was all anyone could think about these days, including her husband.

"Uhh… yes," came the voice of King Kai, "yes, I found Bulma. Should I call back later?" he asked, the nervousness evident in his voice.

"Oh no, don't do that," Goku replied, "Tell me where she is."

"Goku!" Chi Chi hissed, her eyes sending daggers at him.

"This won't take long," he told her, already backing out the bedroom door. "I promise Chi, just give me five minutes, then we can get back to…"

"Yeah right!" she yelled, throwing the bedside lamp at his head. "Just go Goku! And you can sleep on the couch tonight!"

Goku grinned; he loved the way his wife looked when she got all mad. Still, it was a bummer that he'd never get to finish what he started this afternoon…

* * *

"Elder," Zanda whispered as he ran over to the old Namek. "Elder, they are gone now."

"Good," Elder Mori replied, his voice weak. "The children?"

"They all survived," Zanda informed him as he got to work, stretching his hands out above the Elder's body. His hands began to glow softly, a gentle sound filling the air. Behind them, the other Namekians sighed in relief as they watched Zanda heal their beloved Elder. "I am sorry I had to wait so long to do this," Zanda apologized, "but we…"

"Didn't want them to see your healing powers. I understand," the Elder smiled. "I am glad they do not know what we can do. My only regret is for the woman with them. She is not there by will."

"The dragonball…" began another, as Mori sat up, feeling life course once more through his veins.

"The young man was right, even as evil as he is, there is someone much worse out there." Mori turned to peer up at the sky, stretching out his senses to feel far off into the distance. "I fear that we may come to rely on these newcomers. They may be our only chance of survival now."

Around him, the children once more began to cry.


	6. The Blue One Casts Her Spell

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Six: The Blue One Casts Her Spell

Bulma jerked awake as the cold water splashed her face, and spluttered when some ran down the back of her nose, burning her sinuses.

"I thought it was the best way to wake you," Nappa said, "drink." And suddenly she found his hand thrust in front of her face, the giant palm full of water, tipping the essence of life down her unwilling throat. Gods, it burnt, and she coughed and choked, but he was gentle, holding up her head until she had filled her stomach with the water she knew she needed.

Gasping, she lay back again, moaning and bringing a hand to her head. It throbbed painfully, and she felt sick. And the memories of what Vegeta did, killing those little Nameks- not much more than babies- came flooding back.

"Oh… fuck," she whispered, the sound nothing but a small croak. She barely had time to turn before she threw up, spew and tears and snot pooling on the ground beneath her in a horrible display. She sobbed as Nappa picked her up again, dipping his hand into the water once more, washing her face with the cloth she had packed away in her capsules. Only as he lay her back down on a fresh piece of grass did she realize that they were beside a calm lake, the blue water- so rare a colour on this planet- reminding her of home. Somewhere in the corner of her scientific mind, she wondered why this lake would look different to all the others on this planet. Some added chemical, she supposed.

"Vegeta's gone to hunt again," Nappa said after a while, sitting himself down behind her. "He'll be back in an hour, and then we'll head to the next village."

"You're not hungry?" she croaked.

"The Prince must eat first," he replied, "It's my duty to keep an eye on you."

"He almost killed me," she said, plucking at the grass in front of her.

"No, he wasn't going to kill you. It was an act, and he'll do it again. You're his ticket to getting the dragonballs. You're lucky, you know."

"I don't feel lucky. I feel like shit. And I don't think it was an act… he was so… so mad." Her voice wavered on the final word, and she bit down on her tongue, promising herself not to cry anymore. It didn't get her anywhere with these heartless men.

Nappa remained silent, frowning as he watched a group of native amphibians hopping in the distance. For some reason, he felt drawn to explain things to this girl that he had never admitted out loud before. A shiver ran up his tail as he realized she had some sort of strange effect over Saiyans- there was no other explanation for the way Vegeta stared at her, or the way he protected her.

_Yes there is, you just won't admit it_.

He shook his head, cursing the damn memories of his past. Grunting, he gave up, and told the female what she'd need to know to survive the Prince.

* * *

When Vegeta landed, Bulma couldn't help but stare at him. He caught her in his gaze, and she quickly looked away, terrified that her eyes would betray her. What Nappa had told her made her even more confused than before, because now she saw not only a monstrous villain in Vegeta, but a pained victim too.

She hadn't even realized- though she should have known- that there were those out there even stronger than the Saiyans. Her back had been to Nappa as he told her, but she had heard the strain in his voice, as he explained how the Saiyan planet had been destroyed not by a meteor, but by Frieza.

Even the name gave her shivers. To think that there was someone who made Vegeta look like nothing, was terrifying. And to know that he had taken Vegeta when the Prince was just five, and wiped out his entire race, made her want to weep for that lonely little boy. How scared he must have been…

Nappa had told her more, too. How Vegeta was always sent, alone, on the hardest missions. How Frieza had placed him in a squad full of men who had a taste for little boys when he was eight, while Nappa and Raditz were on a distant planet. How the cold emperor moulded Vegeta over the years, beating him down, never letting him forget the failures of his race.

Nappa had told her some good things too- what Vegetasei had been like, beautiful and red, and then about his daughter…

"_You remind me of her," he said, before she heard his teeth snap together, and realized he had told her too much._

"_Thank you," she whispered back, turning to look Nappa in the eye, "I'm sure she would be proud of you."_

"_Tell anyone and I'll kill you," he grumbled, getting to his feet. "I'm going to go take a piss."_

Nappa had spoken as if he'd never told anyone before, as if he were confessing his darkest secrets. With a strange feeling of sorrow, Bulma realized it was probably true. Saiyans never said much, normally, and it had become evident that showing feelings seemed too weak to either man. She was glad, then, that she at least could have helped one of them clear their conscience.

She groaned as she realized she was probably developing something akin to Stockholm syndrome. _Shit. I'll probably end up falling in love with one of them._ She snorted, shaking her head._ Yeah right._

* * *

"I've already taken three dragonballs, and I shall have your one too. Hand it over."

The Namekians made no move to fetch anything, instead remaining wide-eyed and frozen to the spot. Bulma gasped as Vegeta grabbed her again, her arm twisting enough to make her cry out in pain. _I should be used to this act by now_, she thought, but tears formed in her eyes as his hand constricted her throat once more.

"Hand the ball over or she dies."

* * *

This wasn't normal behavior.

And yet, he couldn't help it. He didn't like the way she seemed to smile at Nappa now, and he didn't like the fact that he found himself watching her, as if she was the most interesting thing around.

She wasn't. The dragonballs were far more important. He would have immortality, and then he would kill Frieza.

Vegeta hissed through his teeth as he leaned back against the cave wall, watching the rain fall outside. Nappa had only been gone an hour, it would still be a few more before the older man came back with a full gut. Which left him here with the annoying female…

"What's your last name?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, peering at him with those absurdly blue eyes.

"My what?"

"Your last name. Mine is Briefs. What's yours? Or don't Saiyans have one? How do you identify someone then? There must be more than one Kakarot around."

He stared at her blankly, wondering why the hell she would want to know something so useless anyway. "My name is Vegeta. My title is Prince. That's it. And no, there is only one Kakarot around, if you believe that your friends really did wish him back."

"But I meant before…"

"Why do you care?" he snapped at her, making her jump. He cheeks flamed red, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Because I do, okay? It's interesting! And I'm bored, stuck here with you stinky men. Geez, do you have a stick up your ass or something?"

And then he saw it, the flash in her eyes as she knew she had said too much- not because she had pissed him off, but because she _knew_. Nappa had told her… told her things no one should know, and it took all his will not to go and kill the old fool now. He closed his eyes, taking a calming breath, whispering to the woman slowly.

"If you ever speak to me like that again I will tear you limb from limb."

And then she surprised him more, for instead of cowering in the corner, she walked over to him, sitting close enough that he could hear her heart pounding quickly in her chest, close enough that she could lay a soft hand on his arm.

He opened his eyes and glared at her, his muscled tensing, his lips curling back…

"You have manhandled me plenty of times," she told him quietly, her chin held high, "so don't go getting grumpy just because I touch your arm. I'm not strong enough to leave bruises, unlike some people."

He sat there, shocked, as she leaned against him and promptly fell asleep, her blue hair falling wildly across his shoulder.

What scared him the most was that he knew where the Nameks kept the dragonballs now… always in the centre building of each village. He did not need the woman anymore in order to obtain them.

So why was it that he could not kill her?


	7. The Power Within

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Seven: The Power Within

"Elder, I don't like to sit here knowing that my brothers are being attacked every day. I should be fighting for them; it's a risk to let it play out like this."

"It would be pointless to throw your life away, Nail," the Great Elder wheezed, his eyelids cracking open to look at his young, strong son. "I have a better idea, child. Do not fight these ones. Bring them here, to me, instead."

"But… Elder… that's crazy!"

"They will come anyway, once they've hit the other villages. Go get them now, bring them here. I need to speak with these people."

"Yes, Elder," Nail replied, bowing to the ancient Namek, so old and large that he now lay confined to his throne.

Nail flew out the door of the single house that perched high atop the lone, sacred cliff. He frowned, wondering if his father's deteriorating condition had now spread to his brain. What good could these evil beings possibly do?

* * *

Vegeta's scouter beeped, with Nappa's flashing soon after. At the noise, both Saiyans stopped mid flight, causing Bulma to hit her head against Nappa's armour.

"Owww," she groaned, rubbing her head.

"Shhh," Vegeta hissed at her, before turning to the left. "Someone is coming to greet us. And they're strong… we may have a little fun ahead."

Nappa felt Bulma tense in his arms, and grunted. He didn't like the way she made him feel guilty for killing, he supposed this was why they always taught the young ones on Vegetasei to kill first and talk later.

"Please," she whispered, leaning out of Nappa's arms, her hand reaching for Vegeta. "Please don't kill anyone."

"Shut up woman!" he snapped at her, swatting her hand away. "I'll do what I like. Do not interfere again, or I may actually do away with you this time."

Bulma pursed her lips together, sending a silent prayer to anyone that was listening that the person coming would survive this encounter.

* * *

"It won't be ready for another month, even with all of my best workers on it," Dr. Briefs told Goku as they walked around the half-constructed shell of the spaceship, his fingers holding the cigarette to his mouth once more. "I can't afford to rush it; you don't want to find yourself stranded in space because the engine's broken."

"But she's on Namek now! He even gave me the coordinates!" Goku complained, almost jumping on the spot. "I want to leave now! She's with scary guys!"

Dr. Briefs' face clouded, and Goku realized he had said the wrong thing. It wasn't fair of him to demand so much from a man whose daughter was missing- as a father himself, he could understand what the older man must be going through. "I'm sorry," he told the scientist, patting him gently on the back, "she's a smart girl, and King Kai said that she's fine, so far. She'll be okay. I'll get her back for you."

"Thank you," the old man said, tears shining from behind his glasses.

* * *

When the Namekian stopped just a few meters away from them, floating in mid air, Bulma was struck by how similar he looked to Piccolo. She was sorely tempted to tell the man to run away, but she really didn't want to make Vegeta mad again. She already had dark bruises around her neck and wrists, and she didn't feel like getting more. It was a sad fact, but in the end she chose herself over others… she just wasn't brave enough to go sticking up for every creature, although she did try sometimes.

"You need to come with me," the Namekian said, staring unafraid at the Saiyans, "I will take you to see the Great Elder. He wishes to speak with you."

"Hey!" Nappa yelled, making Bulma flinch, "We don't follow orders from anyone! Who do you think you are, telling us what to do?"

"Silence, Nappa!" Vegeta snapped, before turning towards the newcomer. "And pray tell, who is this 'Great Elder'?"

"He is the father of all Namekians," the man replied, "and the creator of our dragonballs. If you kill him, the dragonballs will disappear, so I suggest you don't."

Vegeta's tail twitched, before he gave an arrogant snort. "Fine. Lead the way, green bean."

The Namekian nodded, before turning and taking off. Bulma hit her head again as Nappa shot after him, and she glared up at the big Saiyan.

"Sorry," he told her with a grin.

* * *

Zarbon looked out the window and sighed; space really was boring. He chuckled lightly, remembering the first time he had seen space as a boy, only ten years old, and on his way to meet the great Lord Frieza. He had been so excited then…

His mouth turned down as he remembered the events that followed. He had been a rarity amongst his people, only a few hundred had the fighting power that he possessed. Him and the others had been taken into Frieza's great ship, then distributed to various squadrons around the universe, not realizing that it would be the last time they would see their planet again.

And his sister- his beautiful, sunny, older sister- had been gifted to the Saiyan King as a whore. Just thinking about it made him want to wring the bastard monkey prince's neck right now.

Blue lids closed on the golden eyes, as Zarbon leaned his head against the glass. Just one more week, and he would finally have his chance to wipe out all the monkeys in the universe.

* * *

Vegeta stood shocked as he looked up at the ugly, ancient Namek, taking in the huge size, deep wrinkles, and dark age spots. He screwed his nose up in disgust, thanking the gods that Saiyans kept their youth for a very, very long time.

"Ahh, you have come," the fat creature wheezed, before breaking out into coughs. "I am glad," he continued slowly, "that you have agreed to meet with me. My name is Guru, and I am the Great Elder on this planet. All the Namekians you have met so far… they are all my children." He coughed again, and suddenly seemed to have a bottle of water in his hand, although Vegeta was sure it wasn't there before. After a drink, the old Namek continued.

"Please, tell me your names. All of you." Vegeta's frown deepened as the old creature smiled at the woman, who was standing a short way behind Nappa, biting her lip with worry.

"I am Vegeta, the Prince of Saiyans. This is my subordinate, Nappa."

"And you, little one?" asked the old Namek. "Come here, child. I won't hurt you."

Vegeta growled as the woman stepped forward, moving until she stood beside the great Namekian's throne. He tensed- ready to snatch her- when the Namek's huge hand came down on her head, making her squeak, but the old creature merely chuckled, looking back at him.

"I'm not going to hurt her," he said between coughs, "just heal her." And with that the woman began to glow a soft gold, and Vegeta was left shocked as he watched the blue-black blossoms disappear from her neck and wrists.

The next thing that happened was most surprising, as his scouter suddenly beeped, and Bulma's ki- always usually a stable five- shot up to three hundred. The woman herself gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at her own hands as if they belonged to someone else.

"What the hell?" he heard Nappa mutter, echoing his thoughts.

"I brought out your hidden power, Daughter of Earth," the old Namekian said, looking down at the woman.

"How…?" the woman asked, looking back down at her hands. "How do you know where I'm from?"


	8. Negotiations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Eight: Negotiations

Bulma took in a deep breath, amazed at the feeling, the _power_, in her very veins. She looked back up at the old Namek and smiled at his ugly, kind face that somehow managed to fill her with so much warmth. Here was the love and warmth that she had been missing since her time with the Saiyans began.

"I read your mind," he said to her, his old, deep voice resonating in her ears. "I am sorry for invading your privacy like that, but you must understand, I needed to know who these people were."

"What?" Vegeta snapped, and Bulma noticed that his tail was dangerously lashing behind him- never a good sign. "You used her to… to…"

"Calm, young one," the Great Elder spoke, holding up one huge hand. "Now that I know, I can decide."

"Do not tell me to do anything!" Vegeta snarled again, "What the hell do you mean, 'so you can decide'?"

The Great Elder leaned back in his chair, taking the time to sip at his water. "So I can decide how best to save my people," her replied, "and you, too."

* * *

The six village Elders all received the Great Elder's message at the same time, his voice coming strong through the telepathic bond they shared. Those that had not yet been visited by the Saiyans did as they were told, sending their precious dragonballs off with their fastest warriors.

After that, all they could do was wait.

* * *

Guru sighed, looking down at the young Saiyan, who was clearly a product of his environment. Through Bulma's head he had learnt enough to confirm his own observations- that these ones were not as bad as the others that were coming, only a few days away now. There was no time to waste… it was now or never. It broke his heart to think about it, but the home he had known all his life- the world that spoke to him through the trees and wind and rain- knew it's time was coming to a close.

_Just like me._

"You have four dragonballs, son?" he asked the Saiyan. "Get them out now, if you will. The other two will be arriving shortly. The last one is already here."

"I shall have immortality?" the Saiyan asked, surprise evident in his voice. Guru sighed, hating to disappoint the young one so.

"No," he said, and watched cautiously as the Saiyans both stiffened.

"Yes, I will."

"No, son. Listen, before you lose your temper. I understand you want to beat this Frieza who is coming. He is only a few days away from here now…"

"What?" the bigger Saiyan spoke up, "What do you mean, only a few days away?"

Guru simply shook his head with a sigh, his fat jowls shaking. "It is you who led him to my planet."

Vegeta took a step back, his eyes widening as he processed the information. And suddenly, he knew it was true. He could sense it, there, in the back of his mind- a strange, cold, buzzing feeling that filled him with dread. It was Frieza, coming to destroy them, and there was no time to escape. "Then… then you must give me immortality to defeat him," he interjected, taking a stepping forward again. "I must have it!"

"At the expense of all my children? No," Guru replied, "I will not allow you to take precious lives away in your fight. I know you won't beat that creature straight away- you plan to simply wear him down until he tires. There must be a better way."

"A better way," the young female breathed beside him, and he smiled down at her. She smiled back, her face full of warmth. He hoped that one day perhaps she would show these Saiyans love as she knew it. It would make them better people, and heal the wounds in their hearts.

"There… is… no… better… way," the Prince spoke again, his entire body shaking with tension. "Frieza cannot be defeated without… I have to be immortal!" He struck out his hand, aiming a ki blast at Guru, "I shall have it! Do not deny me what is rightfully mine!"

"If you kill me, the dragonballs disappear," Guru reminded the boy, "Calm down. Let us think. We will find another way. We have three wishes."

"Three?" Bulma asked, surprised. "We get _three_?"

"Yes," Nail answered her. "The dragon Porunga grants three wishes per time."

Bulma looked up at Vegeta, her eyes meeting his. She was shocked to see fear in his eyes- but then she shouldn't have been. _Frieza has tormented him so much_, she thought to herself. _And he's coming here! He must have been tracking the ships! Or the…_

"Take your scouters off!" she yelled at the Saiyans. "Take them off!"

"What?" Nappa asked. "Why?"

"Frieza knows we're here! How could he have known we're here?" she replied, her voice rising in panic.

"Shit!" Vegeta screamed, crushing his scouter in his hand. "Shit! How could I have been so foolish? He's been listening the whole time!"

"Damn!" Nappa yelled, stomping on his own scouter. "Damn it! Fucking Frieza, that lizard bastard!"

"We have to get away," Bulma said, her mind shifting into gear as she weighed up all the possibilities. "We could use a wish to take us somewhere! Somewhere safe!"

"Frieza has spies all over the galaxy, he'll find us," Vegeta spat, his voice low and dark.

"We could go to Earth…" Bulma suggested.

"He knows we've been there!"

"We can't stay here! We'll die!" she screamed.

"That's why I need immortality! So I can defeat him!"

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!" Bulma yelled, finally letting loose all the feelings she had kept bottled away over the past few days. "You think that you're suddenly going to beat him with immortality? You won't! You'll experience more pain than ever before, until finally you're strength overpowers his… that could take years! And then what? What will you do, living forever? What happens when you've defeated everyone? You'll be trapped here, watching the universe die until it's nothing but a black void… You'll be stuck floating in space! Nothing lasts forever! It's not meant to! What will you do when you're the very last thing left in existence?"

"Just… Just shut up!" Vegeta yelled back, stalking over to Bulma, "I never asked for you're opinion!"

"No! No, of course you didn't! You just take what you think is 'rightfully yours', you never ask for anything! How do you think I feel, being dragged around by a bunch of smelly aliens, to find out that they wanted something as _stupid_ as immortality?" By now her breath was coming in heavy gasps, her face a bright shade of red. Vegeta suddenly realized that he could actually _feel_ some power coming from her.

"It's not stupid!" he yelled, "It's the only way!"

"It's cheating!" she yelled back. "Can't you just grow stronger on your own? Nappa told me about those legends… about the Super Saiyans! He said you're supposed to be one! That's what everyone said when you're born! Can't you do it? Is that why you have to rely on this… this… _easy_ way out?

Vegeta ground his teeth together, pushing his face forward until his nose was almost touching hers. "Frieza is very close, little one," he whispered to her, "if he gets you, he will sell you to the brothels of Frieza 59, if you're lucky. If you're unlucky… he'll keep you for himself. Aren't you afraid of that?"

"There has to be another way. Three wishes, Vegeta," she whispered back. "You want to be a Super Saiyan, don't you? You want to avenge your people?"

"He will find us, no matter where we go."

Looking into the Saiyan's dark eyes, Bulma found herself struck by an idea… one that perhaps she could convince the Saiyans to agree to.

_Frieza won't bother to look on a planet that no longer exists._

"Vegetasei," she whispered. "We could go to Vegetasei."

"Vegetasei?" Vegeta replied in confusion. "But it doesn't exist."

He watched as a smile- that beautiful, bright smile- stretched across Bulma's face, making her eyes shine with excitement. "It will," she whispered. "It could. The dragonballs could bring it back… you know I'm a scientist… I could develop things for you, things to make you stronger. Frieza won't look for us on Vegetasei, because he destroyed it himself. He won't expect it to come back… he won't find us."

Nappa hissed through his teeth. "Are you serious?" he asked, stepping forward. "We could bring back everyone? The whole Saiyan race?"

"Oh…" Bulma stumbled, "I… I just meant that we could wish back the planet… but…"

"It can't be done," Guru spoke softly, "the dragonballs can wish back the planet, but they are not powerful enough to resurrect more than one person per wish."

Vegeta scowled, staring up at the old man. "You lie," he said, "the woman told me the Earth dragonballs have wished back numerous people at a time."

"Yes," the Elder replied, "but this is Namek. These dragonballs are not the same. They can resurrect a person who has died more than once, but they cannot do multiple resurrections at the same time."

"I want immortality," Vegeta said, snarling, "That's all I want! I don't care about anyone else! Forget them all!"

"But…" Nappa began.

"No!" Vegeta yelled, grabbing Bulma, his hands reaching around her neck. "I will have immortality," he said to the Namek, "or she dies."

The Great Elder frowned, coughing heavily. Nail shifted behind him, uncomfortable with the turn of events.

"I can change the dragonballs, but I need time," the Great Elder wheezed. "Frieza is too close, we must leave this planet."

"Immortality."

"No. I won't allow it. One wish for your planet. The second to take us all there. I will change the dragon- modify him- and the third wish, when I am done, can bring back your people. I will allow that… but nothing more. Even this, I find hard to agree to, because you are filled with evil, and I know your people will be too. But perhaps… I think… your people may just save the universe from something much worse. Please, put Bulma down. Her plan is good- it is good for you, my boy."

Vegeta frowned, his hands tightening around the woman's neck. She gasped in pain, her eyes pleading with his.

"Please," she mouthed silently, and his hand loosened slightly. He didn't know what he wanted anymore- immortality had seemed so simple, but the way the woman talked about it, now made it seem… cowardly.

"_One day, you may even be a Super Saiyan_," he remembered his father saying…

He could have it all- his planet, his title, his destiny. But Frieza was coming, and he could take it all away again. He didn't think he could take having his future destroyed twice.

_Coward_, came Frieza's voice, whispering as if he was right there, in his ear. Vegeta gasped, letting go of the woman, stumbling back.

"Fine," he heard his own voice say. "Wish back Vegetasei. Take us there." He took a deep breath, a strange, sickening feeling taking root in his gut.

_Why am I so reluctant to go back?_

* * *

**A/N:** I forgot to add at the end of the last chapter, in this story I'll refer to Planet Vegeta as Vegetasei, simply because otherwise I'm going to get confused over what Vegeta I'm talking about, lol. Thanks to all the reviewers out there!


	9. New Life for an Old Land

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Nine: New Life for an Old Land

Vegeta pulled the capsule from his armour, throwing it just outside the Elder's house. It exploded into an oversized bag, just large enough to fit the four dragonballs hidden inside.

"Wow," Bulma whispered to herself as all seven balls were placed together. They began to glow on and off like a heartbeat, each time emitting a soft sound. She had seen this all before, but still, it never ceased to amaze her. She looked back into the huge open door of Guru's house, her eyes falling on the old Namek, watching as he seemed to enter into some sort of trance. The roof of his home had folded back, leaving the whole place open to the sky in order to give the old Namek full view of the dragon when he appeared.

And suddenly it happened- the Great Elder began chanting, his hands rising up as if on their own accord, his eyes cracking open more than they had in the past twenty years. He called the dragon forth- his old friend, created long ago when he had believed there to be no other Namekians alive.

Vegeta took an unconscious step back, his mouth hanging open as he watched the sky darken all around. Then the air crackled, and the dragon shot out in a blinding light, causing all the observers to shield their eyes.

Bulma shivered as she heard the familiar growling of an eternal dragon, and lowered her arms to take a look at the magical beast. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, here eyes widening, "He's huge!"

"That he is," Vegeta mumbled in reply, staring up at the huge reptilian creature, with a long, winding tail, the torso of a man, and the claws and head of a monster. The dragon's underbelly was pale, but it's back was a deep green and covered in scales. Huge black horns jutted out from the shoulders and head, and a long fin ran down the length of the creature's spine. Its glowing red eyes reminded Vegeta of his own kind's transformed state, and he smiled. He would have to take the time to do some Oozaru training, once he was back on Vegetasei. It had been a while since he had last had the opportunity to do so.

"You have three wishes," boomed the dragon, his voice so loud that it caused the Elder's building to shake, "state them now."

Guru looked out at the Saiyans, and the young Earth woman, and smiled. Somehow, he knew this would work out well.

"_I wish to bring back the destroyed Saiyan planet, Vegetasei_," he told Porunga in his native language.

"So be it," the dragon replied in standard, his eyes flashing once, "Your wish has been granted."

Guru sighed, sending a message to all his children, telling them to say their last goodbyes to the planet they called home. He felt their anguish at the situation, but shook it off. This was how the universe worked- he had learnt this lesson as a young boy. Out of all the Namekians that had once lived only he had survived, because he had been willing to say goodbye to this planet once before.

"_I wish for all my children, the two Saiyans here, the Earth woman Bulma, and myself, to be transported to Vegetasei now_," he told the dragon in a firm voice, holding back his own tears.

"So be it," the dragon said, and the world suddenly seemed to rush around them.

* * *

Bulma didn't even have time to think.

One minute she was standing on Namek, in between the two Saiyans, and the next she was on the ground, feeling like a huge weight was crushing her, the air rushing out of her lungs. She moaned in pain, knowing that her arm had snapped when she fell, the tears now streaming out of her eyes.

And then there were hands- big hands, small hands- rolling her over, voices telling her to calm down, to _breathe_.

She did. She took a big breath, and took in a smell she had never encountered before- a mix of spice and earth, dry air, and warmth. And though it hurt to breathe- as if someone were sitting on her chest- she knew she liked this place. It smelled like adventure, and that was what she always craved.

She opened her eyes, and found a Namekian hovering over her, his hands outstretched, covering her in a warm glow. The pain subsided, and it didn't hurt so much to breathe. She smiled, and looked at the sky.

_It's red._

And then she couldn't help but grin, turning her head to look at Nappa, who towered beside her. "You're home," she whispered.

Nappa crouched down beside Bulma, frowning as he looked her over. She was grinning like an idiot, and he wondered if she had hit her head too.

"I forgot to tell you about the gravity," he said grimly, "I'm surprised you're still alive."

"It is the power I unleashed in her that saved her," the old Namek replied, turning his head to look at Bulma. "Her inner strength is enough for her to withstand the gravity… she just has to get used to it. In time, she'll be like the children."

"Hmm," Nappa grunted, looking at all the Namekian runts who seemed unaffected by their change in weight.

_Why do Earthlings have to be so fucking fragile?_ he thought to himself, carefully picking the girl up off the ground.

* * *

He couldn't believe it.

He looked around; to the north, where the capital lay, his home embedded in the centre of the city; to the south, where, if you flew far enough, you would encounter the old ruins of the Tuffle's civilization. He looked to the east, where his ancestors had first landed on this planet over a millennium ago, and he looked to the west, where the sea spanned out wide.

He was home.

Home amongst the history of his people, in the place where he was born. The world that he had forced himself to remember, in all his darkest nights of hell. This air was what got him through, this soil, and the red sky, the twin suns, the lone moon. They had all haunted his dreams, but now they were back. As if he had never left.

He took in a deep breath as the shivers continued through his tail.

_I'm back where I belong_.

* * *

Dende frowned, and walked over to the Great Elder, tugging at his father's long robe.

"_This planet feels wrong_," he whispered quietly in Namekian, "_like there's ghosties everywhere_."

"_I know_," his father replied, patting him on the head, "_but it's better than the feeling of that monster, hmm?_"

"_Yes_," Dende replied softly, "_but only a little_."

* * *

"Hey! Where's the dragon?" Nappa asked suddenly, gaining everyone's attention.

"Do you have to yell so loud?" Bulma complained, "I swear I'm going to go deaf if you keep doing this!"

Nappa looked down at the woman in his arms, the frown deepening on his face as he realized she couldn't even keep her head up. Instead, she was leaning fully against his arm.

"Her neck could snap," Vegeta told him, "watch that you take care when moving her. She still owes me training equipment."

The Prince moved closer, peering down at the woman with a smirk on his face. "Not so tough now, are you," he goaded her.

Nappa bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing when the girl simply stuck her tongue out at the Prince.

"The dragonballs are coming," the old Namek cut in, making everyone look to the sky. Sure enough, the seven balls came flying down, the dragon with them.

"State your third wish," the dragon demanded, "so that I may return to my slumber."

"_We don't need a third wish today, Porunga_," Guru told it, "_I'll summon you again soon_."

"So be it," the dragon said, his eyes glowing as he disappeared.

Seven of the Namekian warriors jumped into the sky, grunting as they caught the dragonballs before they scattered across the foreign planet.

"Good job, my sons!" Guru called from below. "I taught you to catch well!" he added with a chuckle, grinning as his older children shook their heads.

"Sometimes you can be so embarrassing," he heard one of the boys say from behind him, and he laughed even harder.

* * *

**A/N:** I figured that since Dende could already fly at this age, the Namekian children would have enough ki control/strength to withstand Vegetasei's gravity (10 times that of Earth)… it wouldn't have been very good if they all got flattened! I'd say Namekians are more like Saiyans, naturally stronger than Humans (even the healing Nameks).

Bulma, on the other hand, having only just had her ki unleashed, still doesn't have the muscle strength to deal with it, since she hasn't done much physical stuff before. By the way, I use both the terms 'Namek' and 'Namekian' depending on how the sentence sounds. Thanks again to all the wonderful reviewers!


	10. The Oppressive Planet

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Ten: The Oppressive Planet

Gods, this gravity was tiring. It worried her really, the way she found it so hard to breathe. Still, Guru had told her that she would not even notice it in a few days, and she trusted him. So she closed her eyes, feeling herself sink even deeper into the mattress Nappa had laid her on, and enjoyed the soft warmth of the fur-lined blanket that covered her.

The voices of her Saiyan captors- or friends, or whatever they were now- lulled her to sleep, as they discussed matters that she was far to tired to listen to.

"Vegeta," Nappa began nervously, "I know you were only five when you were last here in your quarters, but now that you're older… well, certain rooms in the Prince's Quarters are there for… specific purposes."

"I'm aware of that," Vegeta replied, staring out the large window that framed the living room in his own wing of the palace.

"So… you know you just put Bulma in the bedroom that's meant to be for your whores?" Nappa asked, a confused look crossing over his face.

"Yes," Vegeta replied coldly. "Now leave, I want to be alone."

Nappa nodded, bowing to the Prince before walking to the door.

"And Nappa," Vegeta spoke, his body still facing the window, "Don't tell the woman."

Nappa nodded once more, closing the door behind him.

Things were getting too damn complicated.

* * *

Nail bared his fangs in a grimace, hating the way this palace was designed. There were grotesque pictures everywhere- paintings of blood and gore- and everything was washed in evil colours; gold and red, grey and black, all mixing into each other in a way that just…

"Gives me the creeps," his brother said out loud, coming up behind him.

"I told you to stay out of my head, Zanda," Nail reprimanded the younger Namek, giving him a playful punch in the arm. Zanda grinned in reply, shaking his head in a way that made his antennae swing to and fro.

"I didn't even read your mind this time, brother," Zanda told him, his eyes widening as he looked up at the ceiling, where a huge painting of a hairy monster stared down at them, it's red eyes glowing like Porunga's. "This place is really screwed up. Dende keeps talking about 'ghosties'… it's like the evil of the people even seeped into the soil or something."

"No, I don't think so," Nail replied, more to convince himself than anything else. "All children are born innocent, and planets are the same. There's nothing wrong here."

"You're the strongest warrior of our kind," Zanda replied softly. "Our father is going to bring all of the Saiyans back, you know. He has no choice, and he wouldn't go back on his word anyway. These Saiyans are strong, Nail. Will you be enough to protect our people, if the need arises?"

"That's not going to happen," Nail snapped back.

A gust of air blew down the cold hallway, making the windows rattle ominously.

* * *

Bulma awoke to a strange, honking sound, and groaned. She had a massive headache, and it took her a moment to realize where she was.

_Whoa. I'm on Goku's home planet!_

And, just like Guru had said, her body had already begun to get used to the gravity. Now, at least, she could manage to lift her arms, though they felt extremely heavy. She rolled onto her side, blinking and curling back into the soft mattress, her eyes watching the beautiful red sky out the open window.

Her eyelids were fluttering closed again when a huge black thing poked its way through the window, making the same, very loud honking sound that had woken her up.

Vegeta was reaching for the drying cloth when he heard the woman's screams. Without any thought at all, he tore out of the bathroom and down his private halls, almost breaking down the antique door that opened out into the woman's room.

Expecting to find some sort of vagabond alien in her room, he stood shocked as he witnessed yet another feat of Human stupidity.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screamed, inching back in the bed, "get it away from me!"

The big black thing honked again, swinging its long neck out towards her, and she screamed again, moaning as her back touched the wall. There wasn't anywhere else for her to go, and this gravity was too much for her to run in!

"Woman," Vegeta told her in an exasperated tone, "stop being ridiculous, it's only a goose."

"That's a _goose_?" she asked, screaming again as the huge bird flapped its way onto the bed. "It's the size of Krillin!"

"What the fuck is a Krillin?" Vegeta asked angrily, grabbing the honking animal by the neck. With a quick snap it was dead, its tongue lolling out of its beak. "I suppose this will do for breakfast," he mumbled to himself, weighing the bird in his hands.

Bulma blinked, gasping as she noticed something for the first time.

"Vegeta… you know you're naked," she squeaked out, pulling the sheets up to hide her blushing face.

Prince Vegeta turned and walked stiffly out of the room, the bird still in hand, as a faint blush tinted his cheeks.

Bulma watched his _other_ cheeks disappearing from view, noting with an odd twist of the stomach that Saiyans had good bodies.

_Dangerously_ good.

* * *

Bulma grunted again as her hand slipped out from underneath her, making her land painfully on her elbow. "Damn it," she cursed under her breath, "stupid fucking gravity." Righting herself again on shaky hands and knees, she inched closer to her goal- the toilet.

_Don't think about it. Just don't think about it_, she thought to herself. _Oh shit! I really need to pee!_

She bit her lip, frowning seriously as she put one arm in front of the other, slowly making her way across the large span of the carpeted floor. She had far too much pride to call Vegeta and ask for assistance, especially after the whole incident with the goose.

_And seeing him naked…_

Bulma blushed again, refusing to admit to herself that she had quite enjoyed the sight. Why the hell he had been wandering around the palace naked was beyond her, though. _I suppose he's just making use of the fact that no one's here yet_, she mused. _Maybe he's secretly a nudist… I wouldn't mind seeing that more often!_

"Geez," she mumbled to herself, "get a hold of yourself. No Stockholm syndrome allowed, Bulma Briefs."

She moved again, one hand past the other, over and over again until the sweat was dripping off her face. It took her half an hour, but she made it into the bathroom at last. Not allowing any time to look around, she gripped the edge of the toilet bowl, grunting as she pulled her knees underneath her. With much effort, she managed to drag herself up until she straddled the seat, her forehead pressed hard against the cistern.

She was still in the skirt Vegeta had abducted her in. None of her supplies had included clothes, and she felt disgusting and grubby after going so long without a wash, but for now, wearing a skirt was a good thing.

_Just gotta get rid of the panties. Damn it! I have to pee!_

She tugged at the cloth underneath her skirt, almost crying when she couldn't manage to get it down. In a surge on anger she pulled at it, tearing the whole thing clear.

_Yes! Thank God!_

She leaned her forehead against the cistern once more, feeling the beads of sweat run down her face. Now she only had to work out how to get off the toilet…

* * *

Nappa walked quietly through the Prince's private quarters, his tail bristling out around his waist. Being in Vegeta's private territory had scared him enough as a child; now as an adult, Vegeta was twice as strong.

But he had permission to be here, and a good reason too. Vegeta had been out training all day, and had asked him to check up on Bulma. It wasn't known how long she would be suffering from the effects of the gravity, but Nappa hoped it wouldn't be too long.

_Vegeta will be wanting her to build him some training gear soon. She better be able to do it, or he's going to be real mad._

It still made him uncomfortable that Vegeta had put her in the whore's quarters, but he was the Prince, and Nappa was in no position to intervene. He just hoped the Prince wouldn't hurt her…

_Damn it, you're too fucking sentimental. She's just an Earthling bug._

But still, what she had said the other day replayed in his head_. "A Namek is a person just like you and me!"_ Humans had a strange idea of the universe, he decided, but it wouldn't work here. On Vegetasei, Saiyans ruled strong, while all others remained weak.

That was the way it had always been.

* * *

Bulma looked at the door as she heard it open, then down at the towel to make sure it was covering everything. She had managed to pull herself into the bath, and had been momentarily relieved of at least some of the gravity by the natural buoyancy of the water. Feeling much cleaner than before, she had grabbed a towel and tried to crawl back to bed. She had given up halfway across the floor, when she had started sweating again. It wasn't worth getting dirty when she had just gotten clean.

Besides, she was still too tired.

She was relieved when she saw that it was Nappa who came in the door- it would be awkward the next time she saw Vegeta. The big Saiyan walked over to where she lay, a smile playing on his lips.

"You wanna explain what the hell you're doing?" he asked her, folding his arms.

"Just help me onto the bed," she replied with a sigh. "Watch the towel!" she added, as he bent down to retrieve her.

She sighed again as he lay her down on the bed and pulled the covers up over her body. "Still finding the gravity hard," he stated with a grunt, his mouth turning down.

"It's getting better," she replied, looking up at him. "I managed to get to the toilet myself this morning, and then I took a wash. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday though, do you have any food?"

Nappa grunted in reply, throwing out one of the bag capsules from Bulma. From out of the bag he pulled a variety of fruit he had taken from the mess hall kitchens, left just as they were before the planet was destroyed.

"Mmmm!" Bulma mumbled as she bit into the fruit, a grin stretching across her face. "Thish imb gwoob!"

Nappa left her with the food, satisfied that she'd be able to take care of herself for another day.

* * *

King Kai twitched his antennae, honing in on Namek once more.

He blinked, twitched his antennae again, and searched for the natives' ki.

There were none.

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried again, with the same results. More panicked now, he searched for the Saiyans, and then for Goku's young friend, the pretty Earthling.

Nothing.

"Ohh nooo," he said, looking again. "Don't tell me Frieza already got there!" He searched for the evil alien, and found him, still on course to Namek. He sighed, relieved that Frieza was not there yet.

But how could all the people on a planet disappear like that?

He frowned, and turned towards the direction of Earth.

"I better tell Goku…"

* * *

"_Take your scouters off!"_ the female voice blared over the computer speakers. Bulma- that's what she had told Vegeta to call her. _"Take them off!"_

"_What?"_ Nappa's voice asked. _"Why?"_

"_Frieza knows we're here! How could he have known we're here?"_ the woman's voice replied, rising in panic.

"_Shit!"_ Vegeta's voice yelled, before static began to crackle, signaling the end of the transmission.

Frieza's tail twitched angrily, his nose screwing up as he snarled. "Play it again!" he ordered, gulping down the last of his wine.

"But Sire… we've listened to the transmissions all day… I don't see what more we could fi…"

"I said, play it again!" Frieza screeched, his hand shattering the wine glass.

"Yes, my Lord." Zarbon replied, switching on the audio files once more.

_Once I get to Namek I will wring that monkey's neck_, Frieza thought murderously_, If he has stolen my immortality… there will be hell to pay._


	11. Reflections

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Eleven: Reflections

Goku frowned, crossing his arms as he thought over what King Kai had just told him.

"So, the planet is completely empty?" he asked the Kai again, just to be sure.

"Yes," King Kai replied. "I don't understand it myself."

"Man, what the hell?" Krillin muttered, looking back up at Goku. "Bulma's smart- I mean, she can do some pretty stupid things sometimes, like getting into this mess in the first place- but I think she'd know what she's doing with those Saiyans now… you said she was on good terms with them, right?"

"Good enough, yes," the Kai replied. "Especially with Nappa, who is the weaker one. I got the impression that they both recognized her intelligence… I don't think they would get rid of her. Besides, it's the fact that all of them are missing that worries me."

"Hey!" Krillin said, a grin lighting up his face. "You said they had dragonballs, right? Maybe that has something to do with it?"

"Ahh, of course! That has to be it!" King Kai exclaimed. "They must have sensed Frieza coming, and decided to go on the run together!"

Goku cocked his head to the side, his frown deepening. "King Kai," he asked, "who is Frieza?"

Back on his planet, King Kai put a hand over his mouth, cursing himself for having said too much.

* * *

Bulma walked slowly through the palace halls, her eyes wide with awe as she examined the marble walls excitedly. They were marked with spiraling patterns- great designs that spanned from floor to ceiling- and pictures, pictures of the Saiyans in their transformed state.

"Oozaru," she whispered to herself in the silence.

Vegeta called it a Saiyan's true form. She shivered, remembering what it was like to come close to a Saiyan that had seen the full moon. She had witnessed Goku do it twice, back when he was a child. She was glad the moon on this planet would not be full until next year.

_I should be back on Earth by then_. Her gut twisted painfully at the thought, as she ran her hand over an Oozaru carving, looking into the jeweled, red eyes of the creature. She would miss this place. It was so exotic, and so amazing.

She yawned as she came to the end of the hallway, feeling the compounding effects of gravity and the extra lengthy days. It turned out Vegetasei had an extra two hours to each day, and although that didn't seem like much, it took a little adjusting to. After five days on the planet, she still found it hard to keep her eyes open by the end of the evening, while Vegeta and Nappa would still be up and about. She wanted to make sure she was as used to this planet as she possibly could be before the other Saiyans arrived, because she knew they wouldn't be as tolerant as her two Saiyans were.

_Since when did they become 'my Saiyans'? _She shook her head, smiling as she heard the playful voices of the Namekian children coming from down the hall. The Namekians had been staying together in a mess hall in the right wing of the palace, and they tended to keep to themselves. She had been able to walk since yesterday, though, and she had spent some time with them. They were nice people, with cute kids. She still found it hard to grasp the concept that they were asexual, though. They looked so much like men to her that it was odd to think of them as being something other than male or female.

One great thing about the Namekians was their ability to materialize simple objects. Although they explained that they couldn't replicate technology they did not understand themselves, they could make simple things like clothes. Bulma had been very thankful when they had easily created her a number of outfits based on a few, quick drawings she had made… it was far better than walking around in a bed sheet, and she didn't want to have to wear the armour that the Saiyans wore.

She had complained about being bored to Vegeta yesterday, so Nappa had escorted her to the palace library. She had lost all track of time in there, peering over the books, learning what she could of Saiyan culture. The standard alphabet hadn't been hard to learn at all- all she had to do was substitute Earth's alphabet for the universally used symbols. Thankfully, the spelling used here was almost identical to that on Earth, so it wasn't that hard for a genius like her to learn to read.

Today, she wandered down the various passageways on her own, exploring in the eerie silence of the deserted palace. She had climbed a few levels of stairs- still something that was hard to do in the gravity- and looked over the city. It amazed her to see the difference between the city and the ancient palace. While the palace seemed old and traditional, the city was modern, with large towers and circular housing, pink windows everywhere.

Vegeta had said that he would get rid of all the pink windows on this planet, as soon as the other Saiyans were back. Apparently it was Frieza's favourite colour.

Bulma bit her lip, feeling the butterflies surge through her stomach at the thought of the other Saiyans returning. She would be an outsider here, an alien, a foreign influence. She would need to do something great in order to keep on their good side. She had promised Vegeta training equipment, but had a feeling she would have to do more, too.

_I'm a genius, and heiress to my father's company_, she thought to herself, standing up straight. _I'll make them love me… besides, I've handled plenty of old fat-cats on Earth before, how hard can a bunch of Saiyans be?_

Yes, she would try to make them see she was a worthwhile ally. After all, for the sake of Earth, she needed Frieza dead too.

* * *

The ship touched down on the green grass, crushing all animals who failed to move out of its path. Immediately the workers inside began to prepare, switching on their scouters, lining up for a final count-off, before venturing outside.

"Find the nearest cluster of life forms. From there we'll look for the dragonballs," Zarbon ordered, flying ahead. He too, clicked his scouter on, setting it to detect powers not within the immediate vicinity, waiting for the numbers to scroll down his screen.

When nothing happened, he pressed the scouter's main switch again, then took the entire thing off and gave it a shake. When he looked up, he noticed with despair that the entire fleet was doing the same thing.

"Either we picked up a dodgy batch, or there's no one here," Dodoria said, looking over at him.

Zarbon changed the setting with a frown, allowing his scouter to pick up immediate power levels. Automatically a multitude of different ki signatures blipped onto the screen, making his eyes widen in horror.

"Impossible," Dodoria whispered, looking down nervously at their Master, who hovered in his chair below.

"DAMN THOSE MONKEYS!" Frieza screamed, blasting down a nearby cliff, making all fear for their lives. "They will pay for this when I find them! I _will_ find them!"

Zarbon watched as Frieza jumped out of his chair and stormed back into the ship, and felt his skin crawl at the mood his leader was in now. His only consolation was that when they did find Vegeta, he was sure that Frieza would punish the monkey severely.

And they would find him. No one hid from Frieza forever.

* * *

Vegeta walked back to his quarters, covered in sweat and blood from a day of hard training. He had sparred against Nappa in the morning, but the older Saiyan just wasn't good enough to keep up with him, and had been required to go into a regeneration tank by the afternoon.

It was odd for Vegeta to be back in his old rooms… almost surreal. When he had first walked in, he had been surprised to see everything just the way he had left it, back when he was five. His old playroom was still strewn with toys- stuffed Oozarus and mythical creatures- and the floor was littered with scribble-covered paper. He had only taken a quick look in there on his return; after over two decades in Frieza's service, it made him feel uncomfortable to look upon the toys that belonged to the boy he had once been.

Those playrooms reminded him of yet another guilt, too. His father had kept a secret from Frieza; one that Vegeta had never spoken of since the day that secret was shipped off to another planet.

_Tarble._

He could hardly remember his little brother now, just two years younger than himself. He had been sent off to a distant planet, far out of the reaches of Frieza's influence, because he had shown an aversion to violence- a rare disorder amongst Saiyans that came up only once in a million. The King had seen Tarble as an embarrassment, but Vegeta suspected that his father had also sent the younger boy away to protect him. Tarble would have never survived Frieza's harsh regime.

_Why couldn't he have saved me, too? _Vegeta thought before he could stop himself. With a snarl of annoyance at his internal conflict, he stormed into his bedroom…

…and found the woman asleep on his bed.

He frowned even more than usual, wondering what the hell she was doing there. With a grunt, he decided to leave it until after his shower to deal with the problem. She wasn't worth his time.

* * *

Bulma woke up to the sound of running water, and jumped as she realized she had fallen asleep in Vegeta's room. "Shit!" she whispered to herself, noticing the sound was coming from Vegeta's bathroom. It was embarrassing being caught asleep like that.

_Stupid planet, making me so tired_. Hopefully, though, Vegeta would be in a good mood, after she showed him her initial plans for a gravity generator, based on the models she had been designing with her father back on Earth. She just needed Vegeta to approve the overall size of the room- she could never tell how much space those fighters needed to train- and then she could begin building.

She'd have to get help for that step, though. She wasn't strong enough to be working with large metal panels in this gravity, but the Saiyans would be able to do that. She hoped they would agree to help with the work.

"I see you're awake," Vegeta spoke, startling her out of her reverie. She took in a shaky breath as she stared up, unable to stop her eyes from roaming across the muscular body that was clad only in a towel. She bit her lip, noticing the way his muscled rippled as he moved, wondering how he got all the scars that seemed to accentuate his masculinity, before getting herself caught in his dark, burning gaze.

Gods, he was handsome.

She hadn't paid much attention to it before. Before, he had been merely her captor, the man who had inconvenienced her and stolen her away from her home. She had thought of him as pure evil, as a soulless man who could not be saved.

But now, she simply saw him as a man. And slowly, she was beginning to realize that she saw him as a friend, and even potentially something more. It was problematic. He _was_ evil. He _killed_ her ex boyfriend. And yet somehow, her heart had already forgiven him for those things. She didn't understand it.

_You just haven't had sex in a while; it's lust, nothing more._

Still, the feeling that it _was_ more than that kept creeping through her head, and the knowledge of how dangerous a man he was made her shiver.

"Woman?" he asked, his head tilted to the side, a knowing smirk gracing his lips. "Is there a specific reason I found you lying on my bed? Is there something you _want_ from me?"

"I… I wanted to talk to you about the training equipment!" she blurted out, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. "I'm sorry I fell asleep, I thought you might have been back, and then I looked for you, and this gravity is so tiring! I guess I just crashed."

"Hmph. Well make sure it doesn't happen again," Vegeta replied, his mouth turning down. He snatched a robe from a side chair, pulling it around himself at the same time as he dropped the towel, his movements all too fast for Bulma to see anything. Then he was sitting down on the bed beside her, close enough that she could smell the delicious mix of sweet and spice that made up his scent.

"I…" she stuttered, looking away as he stared into her eyes again. "I… have completed the first set of blueprints, but I need to know how much room you'll require in here…"

* * *

Guru sighed, lowering his hands until they rested on his large belly. He had finally done it. After seven long Vegetasei days, the Namekian dragonballs had been strengthened to allow more than one person to be brought back at a time.

His sons all thought he was doing this specifically for the Saiyans. He shook his head, worrying again that his sons, no matter how old they were themselves, still seemed too young to be left behind on their own. They didn't seem to look ahead to the future; if they did, they would realize that they too, would probably need the stronger dragonballs in the future.

"Perhaps, we don't look to the future, because we don't like to see what is coming ahead," Mori told him, placing one hand over his father's huge ones. "Ignorance is bliss, they always say. Or perhaps your children simply don't want to admit that their father is dying." The old Namekian looked up into the eyes of the even older man, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "_I wish you didn't have to go_," he whispered quietly in their native tongue.

"Mori," the Great Elder whispered back, his tone both sad and comforting. "Dear child… I have lived a long and fulfilled life. Do not be sad for me."

"We can't help it," Cargo added, burying his face in the Great Elder's side. "We love you… please don't leave us."

"Death is a part of life," Guru replied, patting the small child's head. "But I will always love you, my children. Never forget that. I'll be watching over you, from Heaven." He cleared his throat, materializing another gourd water bottle, and took a long sip. With a smile, he turned his head towards his strongest son.

"Nail, go tell the Saiyans that it is time. Tonight the Saiyan race will be reborn."


	12. First Impressions

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Twelve: First Impressions

Bulma bit her lip nervously, watching from the doorway as Vegeta crossed his bedroom floor with another set of armour. He stood in front of the mirror in only his blue spandex, seemingly in conflict about whether to go for the armour with the red panels, or the one with the gold stomach detail.

"I think the gold would look good, especially with the cape," Bulma suggested, catching his eye in the reflection of the mirror.

"I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter, woman," he replied, glaring back at her. Nevertheless, he pulled the gold-trimmed suit over his head, before clipping on the red cape that went with it. Traditionally, the Crown Prince's cape always had an orange underside, but this one was fully red. As Vegeta had found on his return to Vegetasei, none of his old outfits fit him anymore, and he had been forced to enter his father's quarters- an extensive series of lavishly decorated rooms, situated above his own- in order to raid his father's wardrobe. It would be better, he decided, to greet the returning Saiyans in his father's uniform, rather than wear something of a common soldier.

He examined himself in the mirror, his eyes resting on the red crest of the royal family that decorated the left side of his armour, just above the heart. He hadn't worn the crest since Vegetasei was destroyed, twenty-five years before. After that, Frieza had taken all of his belongings that held any memory of the Royal House of Vegetasei.

"It is time," he said softly, pulling on the white gloves that completed the outfit. "Come, woman. Let us go and witness history being made."

"Just don't let anyone kill me, okay?" Bulma mumbled quietly, trailing behind Vegeta down the darkened hallways, grinning as she spotted Nappa waiting for them. She looked down at her own outfit- sneakers, blue skinny jeans, and a plain navy t-shirt- and wondered if she should have dressed better for the occasion. With a sigh she dismissed the thought, knowing that the Saiyans would think any clothes other than their tight-fitting battle armour was strange anyway.

No mater what way she looked at it, she was still an outsider here.

* * *

King Kai frowned again with concentration, his antennae twitching in the breeze. "Not now, Bubbles," he said to the hooting monkey at his side, shooing the animal away. "Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate?" The monkey simply hopped up and down in reply, before leaving the Kai to his work. It was frustrating for both of the animals who lived with King Kai- ever since he had realised the Nameks had disappeared he had spent his time staring out into space. Literally.

King Kai sighed again, wiping the sweat off his brow. It was hard work, scouring the universe for a missing group of people. He had checked all of the planets like Namek, thinking that the Namekians would have chosen to go to a planet similar to their home world. Unfortunately, none of those places had shown any signs of the missing aliens.

He had considered giving up, but he knew he had a duty to find them. If the Lord of the Worlds couldn't help those in the lower realm, then who would? If he did let this one slide, and the Grand Kai were to find out, he would be in big trouble.

Suddenly, his antennae gave a twitch, and he grinned as he locked onto the power he had been hoping to sense- Namekian magic. His jaw dropped as he realised where the Nameks were, his eyes widening beneath his dark glasses.

"Impossible," he whispered to himself.

* * *

Guru looked up at the dragon, knowing that this would be the last time he would ever see the magnificent beast. "_I wish for all the Saiyans who died on the day Vegetasei was destroyed to be brought back to life_," he told Porunga.

"So be it," the dragon replied, his eyes flashing red. "I have granted your wishes. Goodbye." With a flash he dissolved into lightning, the seven dragonballs hurtling into the sky. Once again, seven of the warriors jumped up and caught the balls that were now turned to stone, preventing them from getting lost on the large planet.

Nail shivered as he sensed the overwhelming evil coming from the newly resurrected Saiyans. He shook his head in awe- he had never imagined there would be so many of them! Their ki filled his senses, making it hard to think.

"There must be a million of them," whispered Zanda. "Shit."

Nail looked across at his healing brother, their eyes meeting in equal worry. When Zanda swore, it only meant one thing.

Trouble.

* * *

"What the hell?" Bardock said, looking around. He ran a hand though his hair, staring up at the red sky of Vegetasei, then down at the capital city below. He shook his head, finding it all too hard to comprehend. One minute he had been dead, the next...

"This is crazy."

Tora, Shugesh, Fasha and Borgos woke to find themselves standing in a place that seemed oddly familiar. "I don't think we're in hell anymore, guys," Tora said, staring up at the sky.

Fasha rolled her eyes, looking up at the much taller man. "Of course not, you bum!" she said, "Just look at the place. Has hell ever looked like this before?"

"No. But then where the hell could we be?"

"Can you stop saying 'hell'?" Shugesh interrupted, "Now that we're outta that place, I don't ever wanna hear about it again."

"Uhh, guys," Borgos called, scratching his scarred forehead as he peered down at the planet from where he was floating in the sky. "I think you should come up here and take a look."

"Shit," Fasha breathed, looking down at the planet below.

"Well I'll be darned," Tora added. "We're back on Planet Meat."

* * *

Flanked by his team of personal guards, King Vegeta rounded the corner of the large hallway, his feet making dull, clockwork thuds on the marble floor. He strolled purposefully into the great hall that was usually used for entertaining alien guests. Ironically, this was where unknown aliens were supposedly stationed, according to the reports over the scouters.

"There they are! Ugh, ugly green things," Zorn grimaced at his side. Large glass doors opened out onto the main palace gardens, and the aliens sat out on the terrace overlooking the rows of ornate hedges. The King counted around a hundred of the green creatures as the group drew closer, before his attention was caught by something else.

The flash of blue glinted in the sunlight, and the King slowed his stride as the pale creature turned around, her curvaceous figure proclaiming her to be a woman. She grinned at one of the smaller green creatures, the smile lighting up her perfect features.

"Sire," called an approaching palace guard, drawing the King back to reality. "Nappa is here, and the other Saiyan with him claims to be the Prince, but it seems impossible..." The guard trailed off under the direct stare of his King, his face flushing crimson with nerves.

"My son?" the King asked, looking back over at the group of green beings. He spotted the giant figure of Nappa, although something was wrong with the way he looked. Beside the elite, stood a short man with hair that rose in a dark flame. As they approached the man turned around, directing his dark glare straight at them.

"My God," Zorn whispered, "can it be? The Prince?"

The King stopped, his voice caught in his throat as he viewed the younger man. It was like looking in a mirror, minus a number of inches, and a few years. But it was the same nose, the same mouth, the same eyes that stared back at him. The hair was even the same, down to the widow peak. Only the shade differed, with the younger man's hair almost fully black, only showing a hint of the reddy-brown that was unique to the royal line.

"Father," the man said, sweeping low in a graceful bow, his red cape rustling behind him. "I have returned from my service with Frieza. I assume you have questions about how you have come to be back here, after so many years in the next dimension."

The King straightened, looking the man over once more. Nothing made sense- just how they had suddenly appeared on Vegetasei was a mystery to him- but there was one thing he was certain of. This _was_ his son.

"Is that my armour, boy?" he asked, one eyebrow rising in mock seriousness.

The Prince smirked back at his father, folding his arms across his chest. "Well," he drawled, and for the first time the King noticed just how deep the boy's voice had become, "I only got here last week. I found that I've... outgrown my last set of clothes."

"I seem to have lost track of time," the King replied, grinning as he scratched his beard. "Tell me, how long has it been? I realise what's different about you now, Nappa. You're bald!" He let out a booming laugh, making Nappa blush and mumble something under his breath before he caught the glaring eyes of Zorn. Quickly he straightened, and swept the King a low bow.

"It is an honour to be in your presence again, King Vegeta. I am your humble servant, Sire."

"Gods, Nappa," the younger Vegeta snapped, turning slightly to look back at him, "must you always be such a kiss-ass? I get so sick of your brown nosing all the fucking time. Just piss off, I don't want to see your ugly face for the rest of the week."

"Uh..." Nappa stuttered, taking a step back.

The King laughed again, the guards behind him barely hiding their own amusement. "You're excused for now, Nappa," he said between chuckles. "Report to me in my office in an hour. I'll speak with you then." Nappa bowed again to the King, before walking out of the large hall, his back held straight against the mumbled comments from the guards about his lack of hair.

"It's been twenty-five years," Vegeta stated loudly, his sombre mood immediately quietening the room. "Frieza is still alive," he added, his expression darkening further. "I have rebelled against him, and the lizard freak has found out. It's why this planet is back... it was decided that this would be the best place for me to continue my training without detection. Frieza won't bother looking for me on a planet that he knows he destroyed, and we know he has no spies here. Soon I will be a Super Saiyan, and then I shall destroy the Cold Empire once and for all."

"With all due respect, Prince Vegeta," Zorn began nervously, "how is that we are all here again? We were dead."

"It is my doing, in part," Guru answered from behind the Saiyan Prince, his voice faltering into coughs on the last word. "I am the Great Elder of Namek. My kind possesses special powers, capable of making items- dragonballs- that can resurrect people from the dead." He coughed again, materialising another gourd full of water to drink, "The Saiyan Prince and his companions came to my planet seeking the dragonballs out. Unfortunately, Frieza was following not far behind. We were required to evacuate the planet... it is why we are here. We have helped you, King of Saiyans. Please show my people kindness in return."

"Kindness isn't considered a Saiyan trait," the King shot back. "Don't tell me what to do, Namek."

"We will grant your people protection until Frieza is destroyed," the younger Vegeta cut in, turning to face Guru. "I may have further use for your dragonballs, yet."

"Thank you," Guru replied, his breath now coming in wheezing gasps. "I'm dying," he added with a sad sigh.

"I can see that," Vegeta commented dryly. "How long is this going to take?" he asked, eliciting glares from several of the Namekians.

"Our planet has been destroyed..." Guru continued, ignoring Vegeta's remarks. "I sensed it last night. Mori, you will have to find another planet to call home for our kind. You take over now, my son; I know you will do me proud. Remake the dragonballs and keep them safe. Children... don't be afraid. I love you all."

"Gods, all this sappy talk makes me want to puke," Celipa, the only female guard, whispered in Zorn's ear. "We should just kill the ugly old thing now."

Nail snarled at the comment, glaring across at the Saiyan female. The children behind him whimpered, clutching on to each other. "We Namekians have advanced hearing, you know," Nail spoke, his eyes never leaving those of the Saiyan woman. "I would watch what you say."

"Perhaps you should follow your own advice," Vegeta replied, glaring back at the Namek. "You're not exactly in the position to be making threats, after all."

"Don't fight the Saiyans, Nail," Guru whispered, "They aren't your enemy. You will see in time, trust me..." He slumped forward, and a number of the older Namekians ran forward, each helping to support the old man in his final moments. "I have to say goodbye now," he continued.

"Great Elder," Bulma said, stepping forward. "Thank you, for everything." She touched his huge leg, her vision blurring with tears. He smiled at her briefly in return, then down at his children, before the last of his breath left his body in a peaceful sigh.

The Saiyans watched awkwardly as the Namekians broke out in tears, their cries echoing across the great hall.

* * *

Bulma sniffled, wiping her eyes as she pulled back from Zanda's embrace. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, patting the Namek's cheek. "He was such a good man."

"You don't look like a Namek," came a voice from directly behind her, and she whirled around to find herself facing the broad chest of Vegeta Senior, the great King of Saiyans. She looked up, her breath catching as she craned her neck to look into his face.

His very _handsome_ face.

"Ha... hello," she breathed, taking a step backwards in order to put a little distance between her and the tall man.

"Hello," the King replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

_Whoa, like father like son!_ Bulma thought, taking in the appearance of the King. _How come he's so tall? I see where Vegeta gets his good looks from... What am I thinking? This guy's old enough to be my father! And he's a King! And obviously he's got a wife, and I'm supposed to be saying something to him right now!_ "Uh... I'm Bulma," she said shakily, swallowing as she tried to regain her composure.

"You're a Bulma?" the King asked. "From what planet?"

"Earth," she answered too quickly, "Uh, but no! My _name_ is Bulma, Bulma Briefs. I'm a _Human_, an Earthling, from planet Earth. I'm a scientist." She took in another deep breath, feeling herself slip back into the mind of a businesswoman and scientific genius. "I'm a scientist, one of the head scientists of Capsule Corporation, which happens to be the most successful technological corporation on Earth. My father owns the company; I'll be taking over when he retires."

"An Earthling," the King nodded. "And a scientist, you say? So... what brings a beautiful heiress to my humble planet?" he asked, his white teeth showing as he flashed her a grin.

"Uh..." she stuttered, feeling more uncomfortable than ever before, "I'm creating Vegeta some training equipment."

"_Really_? Creating _Vegeta_ some training equipment? He's asked you to do this specifically, has he?"

"Yes… I'm developing a room that can multiply gravity a number of times, as well as bots that can deflect ki. I can show you the blueprints if you like; I'm still in the developing stage with the bots, though."

"You must be quite intelligent to create such devices, Bulma," the King spoke. "It's rare, to see creatures with both beauty and brains… I appreciate that in a woman." He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes trailing over her head and face. "Such a nice shade of blue," he murmured quietly.

"Well..." Bulma interjected, pushing his hand politely away from her face with an awkward smile, "I'm one of the smartest people on my planet. My skills are highly sought after."

A grin slowly spread across the King's handsome face, and he bent his head lower until his face was mere inches from Bulma's own. "I'm sure your _skills_ are," he said, emphasising the word 'skills' in such a way that made Bulma blush bright red. She hoped that he couldn't hear her heart beating like crazy, and took a nervous step back from the older man who was clearly making a pass at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Vegeta's tail twitching dangerously.

_Obviously he doesn't condone daddy's behaviour_, she thought to herself.

As if he had read her mind, the King seemed to notice his son's aggressive stance, his eyes widening as he took in the unwound tail, it's hairs bristled as it lashed back and forth, making the younger Saiyan's cape rustle.

"Is she yours?" King Vegeta asked his son, at the same time taking a step back from the woman. As much as it hurt his pride to do so, he was smart enough to avoid conflict with the Prince. The boy had been stronger than him as a kid; now, there was no telling how powerful he had become.

"She stays in my quarters," Vegeta answered through gritted teeth. The King clicked his tongue, looking back down at Bulma.

"Naughty girl," he frowned at her. "You should have told me you were my son's whore. I don't take being lied to well, you know."

"What do you mean, 'whore'?" Bulma asked, her temper flaring. Her oncoming fit was cut short, however, when she felt Vegeta grip her suddenly on her arm, and found herself being dragged out of the room by the Prince, who looked like he was about to commit murder.

"Vegeta!" she hissed angrily, trying in vain to pull herself from his tight grip. "What the hell did he mean? I'm not your whore!" They were out of the great hall by then, and heading down a series of thin corridors that Bulma had never encountered before. Part of her felt inclined to map out this unknown part of the palace, but she was too mad at Vegeta to do anything but yell in her current state. "Answer me!" she demanded, attempting to slam herself into his side.

"Shut up, you stupid woman!" he hissed back at her, pressing her hard against the wall. "You are a foreigner here. Not only that, you're an extremely attractive, exotic female. And a weakling too! Do you have any idea what kind of combination that is! If you are not my 'whore' in the eyes of the people here, then you would become my father's. He is a known womanizer, who does not take no for an answer. And he has a taste for women who come in the shade of _blue_."

"What are you saying?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm saying, you stay in my quarters, in the room where you have been sleeping this past week, and no one will touch you. I am the strongest Saiyan alive, and no one, not even my father, will challenge me for you. If you were to stay with Nappa, though, my father would have you in an instant. Everyone on this planet defers to the King, _except me_. So, when someone asks you if you're my whore, say yes."

"No! Why should I? I don't have to feed your… your masochistic, misogynistic ego, you sick prick! Fuck off!"

"For gods sake, woman! What don't you understand?" he bellowed back at her, his voice echoing in the corridor. "If you do not say you are mine, you will be raped! Men here take what they want! You are lucky, that for some unknown reason, I have become momentarily insane and decided to shield you from all of this! I don't even know why I fucking bother!"

He let go of her and stalked down the hallway, his tail lashing so much that it hit the walls, leaving cracks as he went. Bulma slid down the wall, her hands clutched to her chest as she watched Vegeta pause, run his gloved hands through his hair, and hiss something in an unknown language. Then he rounded back, his face a storm cloud of anger as he stomped towards her. Silently, he picked her up, throwing her once more over his shoulder.

This time, Bulma didn't protest.


	13. Familial Relations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

**A/N:** A reviewer pointed out (with good reason) that Fasha and Celipa are both alternate names for the Saiyan female in Bardock's squad, so I just want to clarify something here. In this story, Fasha is the girl in Bardock's team. Celipa is an OC elite female, I used the name simply because I would prefer to keep with Toriyama's theme of Vegetables for Saiyan names, but for the sake of ease, I have used the **Funimation dub names for all of the canon (including movies) Saiyans**. I hope that makes sense! For this chapter you need to know that Pae is pronounced like the food 'pie'.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Familial Relations

Nappa took a deep breath, before lifting his hand to the door of the King's main office. He knocked three times, then stepped back from the door, cracking his knuckles nervously.

"Good luck," the office guard whispered, widening his eyes in mock fear.

"Come in," the King called from within the room, his voice easily picked up from outside by the sensitive hearing of the Saiyans. Nappa opened the door and quietly walked inside, wondering what exactly he had done to earn a private audience with the King.

Hopefully it was something good.

"Sire," Nappa bowed, "you wished to speak with me?"

"I want to know what you've been up to these past twenty-five years," the King said, rising from his huge desk and crossing the room in order to gaze out at the setting suns. "I want to know what my son has been doing, and how strong he has become."

"Well..."

"I want the truth, Nappa. Don't leave anything out." The King turned back to give Nappa a steady glare, almost making the bigger man shake in his boots.

"Me, Prince Vegeta and Raditz were all sent on purging missions together. They called us the Saiyan squad. That's mostly what we've been doing for the past twenty-five years."

"Who's Raditz?"

"Just some lucky third class who managed to be off world when the planet blew up. He's dead now, anyway."

"Hmph. So Frieza treated my son well, then?"

Nappa hesitated, unsure of what to say. The King turned back around to face him, his face darkening.

"Do not lie to me, Nappa," he snapped, "If something happened to my son, I want to know it."

"Frieza sent him on many solo missions," Nappa explained quickly, "ones that Frieza didn't expect him to return from. He always did, though, half-dead. It made him stronger... I don't think Frieza knows about the Saiyan ability, that's what Vegeta always says." He took a deep breath, hoping that these weren't going to be his last moments.

"Frieza placed him in the Denva squad when he was eight... me an' Raditz were off world when it happened. He served with them for two years."

The King froze from where he had been pacing the room, his mouth hanging open slightly. "The Denva squad?" he asked quietly, "You mean the ones... the ones that like... boys?"

"Yes," Nappa answered solemnly. His eyes remained trained on the carpet; he didn't dare look up at the King.

"Shit," King Vegeta whispered, "Gods... my son." He turned to face the window again, but he didn't see what he was staring at. Instead, dark pictures were travelling through his head, making him snarl in anger.

"Where are they?" he asked loudly, turning back to anger. "Where were they last stationed? I'll hunt those bastards down myself."

"They're dead," Nappa replied, nervously glancing at the King. "Prince Vegeta killed them."

* * *

Bulma lay in her bed, tossing and turning restlessly. Her latest spat with Vegeta kept playing over and over again in her head, and it wasn't letting her get any sleep.

"…_he has a taste for women who come in the shade of blue... If you do not say you are mine, you will be raped! Men here take what they want!_"

She pulled the sheets tighter round her body and curled up in a ball, trying to bury her face in the soft pillow. _Sleep_, she thought to herself, _Vegeta's just exaggerating_.

And yet she knew in her gut that he had been completely serious. It all made sense now... she had wondered why Vegeta had given her a room so close to his, and yet so far removed from all the rooms where the palace guards and visiting nobility stayed- where Nappa stayed. "I'm so stupid!" she said out loud, "This is all Vegeta's place! His quarters! Why didn't I see it before?"

And with that realisation came the sickening feeling that she was in _way _over her head.

* * *

Goku picked up his wife gently, humming as he spun her around slowly to the tune of the radio that played quietly in the background.

"Goku," she giggled, "Shh, Gohan's sleeping."

He grinned, setting Chi Chi down, before pulling her in a close embrace. He continued to sway, bending his head until the scratchy stubble on his chin rasped against the side of her face. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

She grinned, kissing her husband's neck gently. "I love you too, Goku. So, so much." Her hands clutched tighter at his back as tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh Goku," she whispered, "I wish you didn't have to leave! I'm so worried."

"Shh," he replied, silencing her with a slow kiss. "Don't think about that now. I'm not leaving yet, not for a few weeks, and Krillin will be with me too."

"But you just got back, and... and..." she sobbed, unable to hold the tears back any longer. Leaning into his shirt, she breathed in his scent, trying to forget how lonely she was over the past year, how heartbroken she had been.

"Shh, baby," he murmured, kissing her hair, her forehead; kissing away the tears that streamed down her face. "I will be back," he told her, his eyes serious, "I'll be back for you. I promise. I promise."

She sobbed again, her chest spasming as she pushed her hands through his thick hair, holding on for dear life. "You make sure you do, Son Goku," she told him sternly through the tears, "You make sure you come back to me!"

"I will," he vowed, "I will."

* * *

Bardock walked down the numerous whitewashed walls of the hospital. The hairs on his tail stood on end as he looked into the rooms he was passing and saw an endless amount of equipment, including needles. He hated needles.

He frowned, trying to decipher the map he had picked up on the way in. All he wanted was to get to room 199A on floor three, which should have been right in front of him. Instead, he came to a dead end.

"You lost?" asked a voice, and he turned around to see a female decked in healing gear staring at him blankly. The weakest of Saiyans became doctors, scientists, and all those other things that were necessary but boring, on their arrival back from their childhood missions. He wasn't wearing his scouter, but he guessed this one would have a power level of less than four hundred.

"Look," he told her, "my mate had a kid... before we all died. I can't remember the date she had him, but I think she's still in here. I just need to get to 199A to see her."

"You just go down the hall and turn left past that water fountain there. Then look for her number, the doors in that corridor are labelled from 150-200A. You'd have to be blind to miss it."

"Whatever," he snorted, storming past the woman. "Why don't they just make this place simple to navigate?"

The woman bit her tongue, her own tail bristling at his rude behaviour. _Stupid soldiers_, she thought bitterly, _they're like big, dumb animals._

* * *

"I feel fine," Pae snarled at the nurse. "I've done this before, okay? My eldest son is ten years older than this last one. I'm not mentally unstable. I feel absolutely fine about sending my child to some unknown, distant planet, from which he may never return. Besides, bitch, I've had years to adjust to that fact in hell. Don't you remember we were all dead, huh? It's just my luck that I'm back here in my fucking post-pregnancy body."

"Now, ma'am..."

"Don't 'ma'am' me you weakling bitch," she hissed, jumping off the bed. "I've been waiting for hours just for you to sign me off. Hurry up and do it! If you don't, I'll kill you!" The nurse stuttered, looking down at the papers in her hands. They weren't allowed to release any of the mothers who had given up their children until they were deemed mentally fit to leave the institution.

The nurse was still unsure about this one.

"I'd do as she says," a man spoke, and the nurse turned to see a handsome soldier standing in the doorway, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. "She means business."

"Bardock!" Pae exclaimed, a grin lighting her usually scowling face. Her hair was loose for once, and fell down in a shaggy mess that reached her knees.

"Came to break you out of this stinking place," Bardock told her, his eyes sweeping up and down her form. "You good?"

"Yeah, and I'm ready to go. Sign the papers," she said, turning back towards the nurse. "Now."

The nurse did as she was told, and held the documents out tentatively. Pae snatched them and grabbed onto Bardock's arm, pulling him down the corridor at once.

"Hey, slow down," he told her, "you just had a kid. You've gotta recover."

"I went in a regen tank, I'm all healed."

"Yeah, but are you okay?" he asked her, pulling her around to face him. She turned her head away, snarling under her breath. "Look at me. Look at me, Pae. Are you okay?"

She frowned at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "It's just the hormones," she hissed. "This fucking body, look at me, I'm so outta shape... no regen tank will fix that."

Bardock frowned, placing one hand against his mate's cheek in the briefest of gestures. "Let's go home."

* * *

Vegeta walked ahead of Bulma, conscious of all the curious glances he and the woman were receiving. Part of it would be from the fact that she was so obviously alien, but he also knew that people were shocked by his appearance too.

The last time anyone had seen him, he was a snotty five-year old. Now he was thirty, and could potentially challenge his father for the throne, although nothing like that had occurred in the royal family for six generations.

He scowled as he thought of something that he was sure would be on people's minds- his height. It didn't usually bother him; regardless of his size he was still one of the most powerful being in the universe, and here there was no one who came close. But looking around, he had yet to see one Saiyan that was shorter than him, save the odd teenager.

At least the palace was no longer deadly quiet. It hummed with noise of thousands of nobles who passed through every day, and above the noise of the transport shuttles, made for the injured or pregnant who are unable to fly, whizzed past every half hour.

The planet was alive again.

So today he would need to complete his first real task as Crown Prince; the job of keeping the planet alive.

He had spoken to his father the night before, after locking a numb-looking Bulma up in his quarters. Together with the King, he had issued a statement over the planet's various public broadcasting systems, introducing himself as _the_ Prince Vegeta, before letting his father inform the people that no one would be permitted off world, and that all transmissions into space were forbidden. They could not risk Frieza finding them.

It was going to cause massive problems; they all knew it. After relying on imports for so long, the old food processing plants would need to be revived. Luckily, until then, Saiyans could easily rely on their own hunting skills, but the strain on resources was going to be great.

It was his job, his father had told him, to convince the ministers that the planet really did need to be shut off.

* * *

Bulma sat nervously in the red cushioned chair, sneaking quick glances at the Saiyans that sat around the semi-circle table. Black eyes stared coldly back at her. She was stationed one seat from the corner on the left side; only Mori, the new Great Elder of the Nameks, sat in a lower position than her. That was, at least, how she assumed the room's arrangement worked. The biggest, most ornately decorated chair sat alone in the very centre of the table's arc, beside in on the left sat Vegeta, and on the right sat the Saiyan who had stood close behind the King yesterday. Bulma assumed that he was the King's advisor.

She had to admit that most of these Saiyans were good looking. The advisor guy had a shaggy mess of jet black hair that fell forward over his eyes, as well as back over his shoulders. The man beside him had short hair that stood up straight, and a deep scar running down his jaw line.

She hadn't realised just how homogenous all Saiyans were, until this morning. Walking through the palace, trying to keep up with Vegeta's quick pace, she had seen Saiyan after Saiyan, all with the dark coloured eyes, and all with the black hair. She had asked Vegeta why there was no one around with different colouring, and was shocked when he informed her that _all _Saiyans have black hair and eyes.

"_What about you?"_ she had asked, _"You and your father... you both have sort of, brownish hair. Especially your father, come to think of it."_

"_It's a royal trait, exclusive to my family,"_ he had replied quietly_. "Now be quiet, and focus on your task. You have to impress the ministers if you want to go ahead with your project; if they say no, I'll have no further use for you here."_

The majority of the Saiyans that sat around the table now were huge in size- the men with large, bulking muscles and meaty hands, the women seeming to come straight out of myths of the Amazon- but one female stood out. Unlike the others, she was tiny, and sat perched with her legs crossed delicately atop her much larger chair. Bulma guessed that if she were to stand, the woman would not even top five feet, even with her hair, a spiky black halo around her head, giving her extra height. She was beautiful too, with pixie features and large, almond-shaped eyes, although her eyebrows were forever turned down in a slight frown.

But what Bulma found most unnerving about this one, was the way she stared back at her, with just the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. There was something about the way the woman held herself- about the way she moved- that seemed eerily familiar, although Bulma couldn't place it at all. With a small shake of the head Bulma dismissed the thought. There were more important things for her to focus on.

It wasn't just the plans for the gravity room and bots that she needed to propose today; she also needed to ask for her own team of fifty scientists. She knew it'd be stretch to convince them to give her, some 'weakling alien' access to such resources, but if they wanted to focus on beating Frieza, Vegeta's shot at becoming a Super Saiyan seemed like the best bet.

And in the back of her mind, a dark thought kept her constant company. She may never see Earth again; if Frieza were to find them before Vegeta was ready, they would all die.

And if Vegeta were to beat Frieza…

Bulma hoped she wasn't helping to unleash an even greater monster.

* * *

Pae grunted as her mate's fist slammed into her arm, pushing her backwards a few meters. "You've gotta do better than that!" he told her, getting back into stance.

"I know that!" she snarled in reply. "This is all your fault, you bastard! You did this to me… I'm not having any more of your children!"

"That's a shame. Guess I'll just have to go shack up with Fasha then," he told her with a smirk. "She's always eager."

The comment had the intended effect, and Pae came at him with full force, executing a series of perfect punches, landing one with a painful crunch to his nose. He spluttered back, then found himself pinned to the ground by the angry female, with one of her hands dangerously wrapped around his tail.

"Don't," he whispered to her. She smirked, her canines glinting in the sunlight.

"Take it back, or you'll be sorry," she whispered. "Tell me I'm ten times better than Fasha."

Bardock chuckled, wrapping his legs around hers. "I wouldn't know what Fasha's like," he replied. "You know you're the only woman I've ever been with. I know my fate… I'm stuck with you forever."

She frowned at that, and sat up, letting go of his tail. "Where were you?" she asked quietly, "I couldn't find you."

"What do you mean?"

"In Hell. Where were you? Everyone else was there, but I never found you."

Bardock hissed through his teeth, rubbing away the blood that dripped down his face. "I didn't go to Hell," he told her. "That Yemma guy- the one who does the judgements- he sent me to the place where 'normal' people go. Apparently I did something good, just before I died."

"Will that happen again?" she asked, looking at him. "I won't see you after death?"

"I don't know," he replied. "But let's hope death doesn't come again for a long time yet." He looked up at the sky, remembering how he had confronted Frieza, and shivered. Would the visions he saw that day come true? Was his son out there, and truly strong enough to fight the Colds?

Would he see the future again? Or did that power fade when he died?

Only time would tell.

* * *

"And that's basically how the gravity room will work," Bulma finished, looking back up at the overhead she had been working from. She turned to face the Saiyans, and was disheartened to see from their open-mouthed expressions that most of them hadn't understood a word she had said.

"Mphm, I'm interested to see your views on this technology, Lady Kaiware," the King spoke, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

To Bulma's dismay, Lady Kaiware turned out to be the little female, who at once smiled and sat up straight. "Well, as the Minister of Science and Technological Development," she began, and Bulma swallowed nervously, "I have to say the capsules Bulma demonstrated are very interesting. They could be extremely beneficial to us in the future. As for the training equipment, I think we could make great use of it. Obviously His Highness Prince Vegeta is the priority, if the rumours are true, and he really does intend to confront Frieza…"

"That will be discussed later," the King replied. "What I need to know is how costly this will all be. Can it fit in our budget? Can you spare the workers needed to complete the projects? The Earth woman said she needed a team of fifty to make the gravity room, is that reasonable?"

"Yes, I believe so," Lady Kaiware replied, smirking back at Bulma. "In fact, I would like to oversee this project personally. We will begin once this meeting is adjourned."

"Good," the King said. "Sit down Bulma. The next issue we need to discuss is the Namekian problem."

* * *

Bulma walked tentatively beside Lady Kaiware as they headed towards the labs, situated in a separate compound within the palace grounds.

"So," she began, looking down at the smaller woman, "you're a scientist?"

"Yes," Kaiware replied flatly. "Unlike most of the scientists here, though, I'm also a warrior."

"So there's actually Saiyans that can't fight?" Bulma asked curiously. "Vegeta and Nappa didn't mention that."

"All Saiyans are capable of fighting," Kaiware replied, "some are simply weaker than others. Very few are born without the natural instinct to fight, and even if that happens, those Saiyans are still perfectly capable of fighting should the need arise. The scientists here are all low classes deemed to weak to go into the army… weaklings fill all our positions that don't involve fighting."

"And the other ministers? Are they fighters?"

"Yes," the Saiyan replied, "all the ministers come from the noble families, strength runs through our veins… it comes from generations of selective breeding, of course."

"Oh," Bulma mumbled. "Hmm."

_Weird_, she thought to herself.

* * *

Vegeta smirked, pushing the older Saiyan back against the cliff. "You're rusty, old man," he told his father, "far too slow to keep up with me."

"Yes, well I haven't had the benefit of two and a half decades of fighting," the King replied, pushing his son off of him. "I had my body in Hell, but it seems I'm just as strong as the day I died."

"Just as weak, you mean," Vegeta prodded. "I think we're done here, if I fight you any longer I might just kill you by accident."

His father's guarded face told him the older man was unhappy with the last comment, nevertheless, the King simply shrugged and went to collect his cape.

"Go see Kaiware in the labs," his father called over his shoulder. "I know she'll want to speak with you."

* * *

"She's attractive," Kaiware told the Prince, "You've found yourself a decent woman there, for an alien. I'm surprised by her intelligence; do you think all Earthlings are like that?"

"Hmph, do you feel threatened?" he smirked. "No, she's rare among her kind. She says her intelligence, along with a select few, far outstrips the majority of the population on Earth."

"Are you really sleeping with her?" Kaiware asked, her eyebrow rising. At Vegeta's dark glare she rolled her eyes, suppressing a smirk. "You've become a very handsome man," she told him with a sigh, "just like your father."

Bulma watched from across the lab as the beautiful Saiyan woman, who had suddenly become something like her boss, reached up and stroked Vegeta's cheek, before smiling at him and sauntering out. "I expect you to be here at nine tomorrow," she called to Bulma from the door, "we need to get this first one completed within the week."

Bulma nodded, suppressing the urge to scratch the woman's eyes out. Frowning, she realised that she was jealous, and cursed under her breath. _Great, I've got the hots for Vegeta; I might as well admit it... You are crazy, Bulma Briefs. He may be a prince, but he's not charming. He's an arrogant ass who doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. _

She huffed, sorting out the various plans and blue prints angrily. It had been a long afternoon, spent sorting out the Saiyan scientists into groups with specific tasks. She had found that even the 'weaklings' were extremely strong, and just as arrogant as their warrior counterparts. They didn't take well to being told what to do, although they listened to Kaiware. She grumbled again, thinking about the tiny woman. There was something strange about her.

"Have you made progress? I'm getting sick of waiting for this machine to be built." She turned to see Vegeta standing beside her, still covered in blood from the day's training. He had somehow lost his cape since the morning, and his armour showed signs of wear. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Do you ever rest?" she asked him, "You're going to get bruises on your bruises."

"I have to become a Super Saiyan," he replied, "and the sooner the better. Frieza will find us eventually, and when that time comes, I must be ready." He walked out of the lab, leaving Bulma to hurry behind him.

"Are you ever scared at the thought of fighting Frieza?" Bulma asked as they walked down the halls. Vegeta gave her a long look, his dark gaze holding her own.

"Don't ask me foolish questions, Bulma," he said seriously. "I won't answer anything so obtuse."

"All right, all right," she sighed, pulling her hair tie out and running a hand through her blue locks. "She's pretty," she said, looking at Vegeta.

"Who?"

"Lady Kaiware. I saw her getting all touchy-feely with you," she replied nonchalantly. "Is something going on?"

Vegeta stared at her, one eyebrow rising as if she were crazy. Unexpectedly, he burst out laughing, the booming huskiness of his voice echoing in the corridor.

"What?" Bulma asked exasperatedly. "_What?_"

"She's my mother!" he said between laughs. "Gods, woman, don't you know anything!"

She pouted, her hands placed firmly on her hips. "How the hell was I supposed to guess that?" she yelled, but even as she said it, all the clues began to click into place. Her mannerisms were similar to Vegeta's; he may have looked like his father, but it was his mother that he gained his predatory, feline grace from, as well as his height. It also explained the looks that Kaiware had been giving her all day; undoubtedly the Saiyan woman had been assessing her because she was pretending to be sleeping with Vegeta.

"Why don't they call her Queen Kaiware, then?" Bulma asked as they reached Vegeta's quarters.

"Because she isn't a queen," he replied. "My great-grandfather banished what he saw as unnecessary female influence in the court, and ruled by himself. Since then, no King has had a wife. It's simply the firstborn son of the King who becomes the next heir. So long as he's strong, it doesn't matter who the mother is. The only criteria is that she be of noble blood. Kaiware won a tournament that proved she was the strongest woman on this planet, which is why my father chose her to bear his sons."

"He _chose_ her? She had a choice, though, right?"

"I wouldn't know." With that, Vegeta turned away, leaving Bulma staring after him.

* * *

**A/N:** As you can see, I've taken a different approach to who Vegeta's mother is than what is usually used in fan fiction. It's just the way I see it for this story :)

I took the name Pae from the word 'pea' (I'm sure plenty guessed that already). Since Gohan means rice and Pan means bread, I thought having an ancestor with a name that sounded like 'pie' fit too. Kaiware are sprouted radish seeds; apparently an old DBZ videogame used this name for a male Saiyan (who took the form of saibaman), but I thought it suited to be a female name.

Thanks so much for all the continuous support!


	14. Trial Runs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Fourteen: Trial Runs

Bulma passed another palace guard decked in the usual black armour with blue panels, and blushed as his dark eyes lingered for too long on her chest. She was used to getting looks from men on Earth, but there was something about the animalistic stares of the Saiyan males, with their barely hidden lust, that made her feel as if she were wandering around naked.

They never looked at her like that when Vegeta was around.

It was late in the afternoon, and she marveled at the blood red and bright orange that filled the sky as the twin suns made their slow descent into the horizon. The part of the palace she was in now, Vegeta had told her, was made specifically for observing the sky. Between large marble columns sat wide panes of clear glass that spanned the length of the massive room on both sides, and above her a huge dome skylight covered the majority of the roof, giving anyone inside a clear view of the world above.

Saiyans, Bulma had discovered, liked watching the sky. At night she often found Vegeta in the same spot by his living room window, his eyes trained on the moon. She wondered if it was an instinctual thing; that Saiyans just naturally knew to look to the sky. In the right circumstances, after all, the sky held the key to their ultimate power.

Bulma was so distracted by the view that she didn't notice the other occupant of the room at first. She blinked, making sure that she wasn't seeing things.

Every other Saiyan she had seen always wore their armour, at least in public. Vegeta did have looser clothes which he wore around in his own wing of the palace, but as he had explained, only a fool would wear them anywhere else. Even the healers and scientists wore armour, although they wore white robes that hung from their shoulder guards.

This Saiyan, however, was clothed in soft robes that hung to the ground. A large white scarf covered its head, so that only a small amount of lank black hair could be seen. The scarf draped far behind the person's back, so that only the tip of the Saiyan's tail, swaying softly behind, was visible behind the white curtain.

Bulma walked towards the person, curious as to whom they could be. Hearing her approaching footsteps, the figure whirled around, its eyes widening in shock.

Bulma gasped as she took in the person's appearance. The girl, as she turned out to be, had the obvious look of a Saiyan, with angular features like all the other females. Her skin, however, was extremely pale, contrasting with the tanned skin most Saiyans possessed.

Most surprising, however, was the girl's eyes. After days of adjusting to the dark stares of the other Saiyans, Bulma was shocked to see not black, but bright, gold eyes staring back at her with equal shock.

Suddenly the girl snapped out of her stupor, and disappeared through the nearest door in a flash of floating fabric. Bulma made to chase after her, but stopped when she heard the sound of someone else approaching.

"Bulma," came a deep voice, and she turned to see her favourite giant, her face immediately lighting up with a grin.

"Nappa! I haven't seen you for days!" she exclaimed, running to greet one of the only Saiyans she trusted. "Have you seen your daughter yet?"

"No, she's coming to the capital soon, though," he replied. "I hear you've been in the labs a lot."

"Yeah, I have heaps to tell you."

Distracted as she was, it was only as she sunk into her bed that night that she remembered the girl with the golden eyes.

* * *

"Okay," Tora began, "so we all know the plan?"

"Yeah," Fasha replied, "but I still think it's stupid. Why can't we just blow the place up and steal the ship that way? Why all this sneaking around?"

"Because," Shugesh told her angrily, "we were killed by Frieza's men. So were all the other Saiyans. That means Frieza doesn't like us, and if we cause trouble here, we're just gonna wind up with that scaly lizard on our tails. I'd rather not die again."

Fasha huffed, crossing her arms angrily. "You guys are such sexist bastards," she told them, "You all owe me big time."

"Sure, sure," Tora replied, pushing her towards the tavern. "Just go do your job and seduce that ugly alien so we can steal his T60 Shuttle. If you pull this off, I'll give you a foot rub."

"That is not a fair bargain!" she complained. Nevertheless, she trudged unhappily into the ale house.

* * *

"Now son, I know you've been under considerable stress as of late, but that doesn't mean you should go around blowing up perfectly good real estate!"

Frieza pouted, leaning back in his hover chair. "I'm not an idiot, father," he snapped back at the video link, "I scanned Namek before I destroyed it, and it was useless, with an unstable atmosphere. I'd like to see you try to market 'life-threatening storms' to potential buyers."

King Cold propped one elbow up on his chair, leaning forward as he studied his youngest son through the transmission. He grinned, his purple lips spreading wide. "I'd simply say, 'exotic weather cycle', it could even be beneficial to have a planet like that in the books; just wait for nature to kill off the latest batch and then market it to someone else."

"You are so naughty, daddy," Frieza smiled, sipping at his wine. "I do admire you so."

"Yes, well, you do me proud. Now, what was the problem with these Saiyans? They disappeared into thin air, you say?"

"Yes, along with the Namekians. I'm having everyone keep an eye out for them; I'd appreciate it if you could do that too." He sighed, staring into his glass, "I should not have let that monkey out on such a long leash."

"Just take it as a learning experience," Cold told his son, "We'll get him eventually, don't let it worry you. Should I ask your brother to keep an eye out too?"

Frieza sniffed, frowning at his father. "He'll just bother me about it!" he complained, his tail twitching angrily.

"Yes, but Cooler's reach covers much of the universe, it may help you in finding your monkey. I wish you boys would reconcile your differences, it pains me to see my family broken so."

"Fine," Frieza mumbled. "Tell Cooler. But tell him to stay out of my region!" With that he shut the link down, and moved his chair until he sat staring out into space.

"Zarbon," he called, "be a dear and find me some soldiers we can spare. I feel like pounding something into a pulp."

"Yes my Lord," Zarbon replied, bowing. He left the room, his white cape rustling softly behind him.

* * *

Kaiware waited quietly in the darkened corner, atop a sea of deep red cushions. She yawned, her tail slowly waving about, and hoped that she wouldn't have to wait too much longer.

She had foregone the usual standard uniform in exchange for something more feminine, as befitting the situation. So she sat here now in a simple red dress, the neckline dangerously low-cut and hanging loosely down at her naval. She wouldn't be caught dead in something like this usually.

But then again, usually she wasn't attempting to seduce the King.

"Why do you always do this?" he murmured, his beard brushing against the top of her breasts. "You ignore me for six months, and then suddenly you're all mine. Don't you think it's a bit of a dangerous game to be playing with a King?"

"You wouldn't kill me," Kaiware whispered, placing a soft kiss on his high forehead. She smiled, and continued to trail the kisses down his face, across the wide expanse of his chest, down the raised muscles of his abdomen…

"You underestimate me," he said, but his voice lacked any real anger. In fact, it portrayed a very _different_ mood all together.

"You don't want a queen," she told him softly, resting her chin on his stomach, "and I don't want to be known as your whore. So this… _arrangement_… suits us well, I think."

"Where you just come and go as you please?"

"What can I say? I'm an independent woman. I thought that was what you liked about me. Don't pout, Vegeta," she continued, a hint of sharpness entering her voice, "this is your doing too."

"I don't pout," he replied gruffly, pulling her back up to face him. He smirked, rolling on top of her, playfully biting at her ear. "I do other things."

"Like all your alien bitches?" she asked, pulling away to look him directly in the eye. "I would be yours, fully, if you were willing to forsake all other women, but you're not, are you?"

He faltered, his mouth opening to say… something. What could he say to her, though, other than that he liked having sex with other women far too much to give up?

"I thought not," she said dejectedly, beating him to the punch.

"It's not like any aliens are here," he mumbled, his eyes now finding something on the wall oddly interesting. "They didn't get wished back. It's just you, for the moment."

"Then I suppose I'll have reason to visit you again in the near future," Kaiware replied, pushing herself up off the bed. She pulled on her clothes silently, aware of his steady gaze upon her back.

"Just remember, Vegeta," she told him at the door, "Saiyans don't like to share. I won't be coming to your bed if you're harboring any other women there, too."

He watched silently as she left.

* * *

"It needs to be tested."

"I'll do it," Lady Kaiware answered, staring through the round windows of the gravity room, newly constructed by the team of top scientists.

"Are you sure?" Bulma asked, frowning. "I mean, I'm sure we got all the calculations right, but with a machine this big, I'd be a little cautious about volunteering to be the guinea pig."

"The what?"

Bulma laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "Nothing. Just an animal like a lab rat, you know, the one's you test all the dodgy experiments on."

Kaiware snorted, giving Bulma a sidelong stare. "I'm the strongest woman on this planet, and as soon as my son sees this toy he's going to want to play with it. I think it's entirely appropriate for me to test this out."

"If that's what you want," Bulma replied, looking down at the chart in her hands, "Just promise me you'll start with the lowest setting." She glanced up again and found that she was now alone; peering through the clear glass, she found that Kaiware had already made her way inside. "Use the lowest setting!" she yelled to the Saiyan woman. "I don't want to have to scrape you off the floor!"

All she received in reply was an angry glare, and she huffed in annoyance.

_Arrogant Saiyans_, she thought, _do they ever use their brains?_

* * *

King Vegeta sighed, resting his chin against his hand. He sat upon his gold-gilded throne, waiting for the next subject to approach him with their issues on tax, public transport, education services or something else just as equally boring.

As a child he had been so excited at the prospect of becoming King. He hadn't realized back then that the title meant you had to sit on your ass half the time.

He craned his neck, looking up through the skylight overhead. His son was out training in the eastern desert region again, despite reports of bad weather over there.

_Make the most of it, boy_. _One day you'll be stuck in here, just like every other King that has ever been._

* * *

Yamcha bent over, his chest heaving with the effort of drawing enough air into his lungs. Drops of sweat fell onto the paving, making soft noises like the rain on Earth.

He missed the rain.

Looking back up at the endless sea of yellow clouds, Yamcha would have given anything to be back on Earth, caught in the rain on a stormy day. Instead, he was stuck on a road that went on for miles, with only the knowledge that he had to reach the end, and the continuous fear of falling off the edge.

_How did Goku do this?_ he thought as he forced his legs to move again, sending him further down the path of Snake Way.

* * *

Bulma grinned, standing up straight with pride. Within fourteen days of arriving on the planet she had managed to create a working gravity machine, admittedly with the help of the Saiyans. Still, this was her doing, and hopefully, after this, she would gain some more standing in the eyes of the Saiyans.

Kaiware's test had gone brilliantly. Everything was perfect, down to the communication system that could be linked up to specific scouters. Now she stood outside the large, square chamber that was as big as a football field, alongside the King, all the ministers, and Vegeta.

Best of all, for once, Vegeta looked genuinely pleased.

"Well," she said to him, "it's all yours." She handed over the swipe card used to lock and unlock the room, grinning at him like a Cheshire cat. "We'll monitor you from out here, just for the first run. I'd take it easy at first, start with two times Vegetasei's gravity. Do not, under any circumstances, take it up past three-point-five times yet. Okay?"

"Whatever," he replied with a shrug, unlatching his cape. "Hold this," he told her, handing over the red and orange cloth. "How much can it go up to?"

"Thirty times Vegetasei's gravity. But don't you dare do that! That's three hundred times Earth's gravity… it'll squish you like a bug!"

He smirked, shaking his head as he walked up to the door, swiped the card, and entered. Bulma frowned, watching him through the glass window.

_He better not do anything stupid._

Zorn stepped up to the little Earthling female, whose head didn't even reach his shoulder. He smirked as he watched her eyes trying to keep up with the Prince's training inside, obviously, despite being able to withstand the gravity here, she was not from a warrior race.

"You've surprised us," he told her, his eyes too, trailing the Prince's progress. "It is… impressive, I must admit. You will build more of these, many more."

"Do I get paid?" she asked, turning to look up at him, her face set in a cold mask. "Once Frieza is destroyed, an agreement with Capsule Corporation could be in your favour; we have much more technology back on Earth."

Zorn snorted, his mouth turning down. "Don't get ahead of yourself," he replied, "you're still the Prince's whore, and as such, you have no need for payment; I'm sure the Prince keeps you well enough. As for what happens once the Colds are gone… you'll just have to wait and see."

Bulma turned back to the window, her anger rising at the fact that she was still treated like one of Vegeta's accessories.

"Being given the task of holding the Prince's cape is a great honour," Zorn told her quietly, noting her grim expression. "You are moving up, if ever so slowly. But don't expect to ever surpass any of us." He stared down his nose at her, his face smug. "I'll see you in the cabinet meeting tomorrow. Good day, _Lady_ Bulma," he added, a fair amount of sarcasm present on his voice.

* * *

"When will Bulma be back? She promised she would come visit us!" Duramu squeaked, tugging on Nail's pants. Nail sighed, picking the three year old up, and gave the little one a stern look.

"Aren't you meant to be in flying school right now?" he asked.

"But I wanna see Bulma! Aaand," he added, "this gwavity makes it way too hard to fly!" Nail suppressed the urge to laugh at the child's cute behaviour, and shook his head, his antennae brushing the boy's cheek.

"Bulma will come when she can," he told him. "Right now, she has to work for the Saiyans. She doesn't want to make them mad."

"They're scawy!" Duramu said loudly. "But I like the fluffy tails!"

_Yes, they are scary_, Nail thought. _And now we have to abide by their rules._

He absently passed the child back to the warrior in charge of flying lessons, and looked around at their new 'home'. They were situated in a swamp region that smelled bad and looked even worse. There were wild animals about too, meaning that all the warriors had to take shifts guarding their small settlement. Nail didn't know what they would have done if they didn't have the ability to materialise houses; the Saiyans certainly didn't make any effort to provide accommodation.

_At least we're miles away from those monsters. _

* * *

Krillin touched down on the familiar lawn outside Capsule Corp., taking a moment to check that Mrs. Briefs wasn't around. She was a sweet woman, but that was the problem; if you ran into her you could end up spending the next hour listening to her talk on tea parties and rose bushes.

He used the back entrance into the large labs, and was pleased to spot Dr. Briefs in his usual place, his back hunched over another panel of wires he was working on.

"Hey," he began, still unsure of how to address the older man. 'Dr. Briefs' seemed way too formal, but 'Doc' was too informal, and 'Bulma's Dad' just sounded lame. "I just came to check up, two weeks till take-off, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Dr. Briefs replied, his voice partially muffled by the cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked up at Krillin, his eyes filled with appreciation behind his thick glasses. "I can't thank you enough for the fact that you're going to go save Bulma."

"Hey, no problem," Krillin replied, placing one hand on the old man's back.

Inside, he was freaking out. The idea of going to a planet full of evil people with strength like Goku's was not the most appealing prospect out there.

_At least Goku will be with me._

* * *

Vegeta moved to the controls once more, feeling the gravity weigh him down, and pressed the necessary buttons. "Four times Vegetasei's gravity," the computer's voice told him as the engine kicked into the next gear.

He grunted, feeling the extra weight press down on him. Shaking off the pain, he forced himself to stand straight, and sent a ki blast straight at the first reflective bots.

He jumped out of the way as it was sent back at him, and began the dangerous dance of training once more.

"What's he done?" Bulma asked, watching him dodge more ki blasts from the bots. She looked down at monitor she was holding, her eyes widening as she read the figures. "Shit," she hissed, "the idiot's gone and put it up to four times gravity!"

Behind her, scientists and ministers alike stared with shocked expressions. No one _ever _called a member of royalty an idiot, especially in the presence of the King. They snuck glances at their leader, but his face showed no change from the usual frown.

Bulma peered back through the window, wishing she could see more than just a blur. She heard a hiss come from someone behind, and another whisper quietly that "it almost got him that time." She bit her lip, pulling on the scouter in her hand.

"Vegeta," she told him through the scouter, linked to a speaker system within the room, "turn off the machine now. That's too high. Your body isn't used to it yet."

"I'm fine!" came his snarling response, but to her dismay, it was clear that he was not. The scans showed his speed had decreased considerably, and he was barely managing to dodge the latest blasts.

"Vegeta!" She continued to watch in worry, her eyes darting back and forth, always a few seconds behind everyone else's.

It happened so fast, she almost missed it.

He must have slipped, because suddenly he was on the floor. Bulma saw the flash of the blast heading for him, and another beginning in his hand, and then she was knocked to the ground, the air leaving her in a great whoosh. She shrieked, her eyes closing tight against the bright glare, her skin burning with a sudden heat that she didn't understand.

Around her people were yelling, their panicked voices rising over the sound of something hissing. She opened her eyes, to see Kaiware directly on top of her. It took a few seconds to realise the smaller woman had just shielded her from a huge explosion…

"Oh my God!" she screamed, sitting up as Kaiware stepped away. In front of her, where the gravity chamber had been, sat a huge pile of smoking, fizzing rubble. Vegeta was nowhere to be seen.

"Vegeta!" she screeched, pushing herself off the ground. "Vegeta!" she scrambled over the rubble, her heart catching in her throat as she spotted one bloody leg protruding from the mess. "No no no," she hissed, digging around it.

She screamed as it moved, and the Prince pulled himself free, his head emerging from the ruins like a monster rising from its grave. He was covered in blood, which was flowing freely from a deep gash that ran across his cheek.

"I'm fine," he told her, standing up on wobbly legs. She barely managed to catch him as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body slumped forward.

"Somebody help me!" she screamed at the Saiyans, who until then had done nothing but stand there.

Members of the King's guard looked to their leader, waiting for permission to interfere in the Prince's affairs. He gave a small nod, and with that they moved forward swiftly, two men supporting the unconscious Prince on a trip to the infirmary.

Bulma shook her head, looking over the rubble once more.

_It could have killed him._

"Why didn't anyone help dig him out?" she asked angrily, directing her gaze at the King. "You're son stands there bleeding to death, and you do nothing! What kind of man are you?"

The King scowled back at her. "How dare you presume to speak back to me in such a manner! You do not know our ways, little one! You should have respect for my decisions! You do not help a warrior until he asks for it, or is fully unable to help himself! Who do you think you are, to make judgements of me?"

"I think," she yelled, "I'm the person standing here covered in your son's blood! Yes, you all are very strong, _bravo_, I get that! But you are living, breathing, _bleeding_ people too! You aren't invincible!" She took a large, gulping breath, trying to regain her composure. "I told him not to go four times!" she moaned, looking down at her hands, now stained red. She turned to face the rubble once more, cursing loudly. "I don't understand what went wrong," she hissed, rubbing her face with the back of her arm.

"Nothing," Kaiware said softly, walking up behind Bulma. "It was Saiyan error that caused the blast, not the machine. The only modification we need to put on the next one is an emergency button _outside_ the room." Around her, the other ministers stared at their feet, not daring to show any support to either women who so dangerously criticized the royal men.

"He will be better for this," Kaiware added, giving Bulma a direct stare. "Stronger, and perhaps more careful. He'll be in a regen tank now, _you should go see him_."

Bulma looked at Kaiware, realising that the small Saiyan had deliberately placed herself directly in the path of the King, and at once took the hint to leave. With a quick bow in the direction of the angry royal, Bulma hurried off, holding back tears of shock until she was out of the Saiyans' sights.

"That woman is trouble," the King spoke quietly, walking up behind Kaiware. "Do not protect her again."

* * *

**A/N:** The last few chapters have been setting the scene, so you can expect the plot to move forward more from here on.


	15. The Prince in Action

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Fifteen: The Prince in Action

Vegeta opened the door to his quarters and froze, immediately noting the fuming Earthling that stood waiting for him.

After only a few weeks of knowing her, he had already learnt to recognize the signs that showed she was about to blow. And so, as the door swung softly shut behind him, he braced himself for impact.

"_You!_" she spat, stalking towards him. "How dare you break my machine! I specifically told you _not_ to put it up past three-point-five, so what do you do? You put it up to four!"

"Clearly your machine was inadequate for the job," he quipped.

"Inadequate? _Inadequate?_ My gravity room was perfect! It was supposed to show people here that I was capable of doing something great! Instead they're probably all talking about how I tried to blow up their Crown Prince! Fuck you, Vegeta!"

"Well, this is sudden, woman," he replied, a smirk gracing his features, "but you can fuck me if you want."

She slapped him with strength he didn't know she possessed, leaving him staring at her in stunned silence as she circled the room, rubbing her bruised hand. Recovering from the shock that the woman actually managed to hit _him_, he growled, moving towards her.

"You're lucky I gave you that free shot," he hissed at her, "don't expect anything like that again. Tomorrow you will begin work on an improved gravity room."

"No," she replied, staring defiantly back at him. "I won't. I refuse. I'm not going to continue to do things for someone who has no appreciation for my time or effort."

"You will do as I say, or…"

"Or what?" she asked, cutting him off. "Or you'll kill me? That's what you always say; you'll have no use for me here, right? Go ahead, I _dare_ you." She grasped his hand roughly and pressed it against her chest, above her heart. "Go on," she whispered, he eyes lit up with a fiery madness, "kill me. Shoot me down, like you did to Mori on Namek."

He stood there, frozen, unable to look away from her headstrong gaze. Time passed around them, while they stood still in their own private sphere.

"You can't do it, can you?" she whispered, looking into his dark, beautiful eyes. Confusion flickered in their depths, mixed with something else. His arm dropped to his side as he leaned forward, until his lips were almost brushing hers.

"The Prince of Saiyans can do anything," he whispered, "but he does so on _his_ terms, not because he is asked to do it." He closed the gap then, his hot lips roughly kissing her, forcing her mouth open so that he could slip his tongue inside. Bulma found herself responding with her own ministrations as his tail snaked around her legs, and his hands pressed her hard up against him. Abruptly he stopped, all too soon for her liking, and pushed her back, his breathing slightly heavier than before.

"Do not test me like one of your scientific experiments, woman," he told her. "You should know better than to play with fire." He left her standing there, her hand pressed to her reddened lips.

_I knew he couldn't kill me_, she thought to herself, a small smile settling on her face.

* * *

"Surely the fact that the equipment broke so soon after it was made signals that we should pull the plug on this project," the Minister of Finance- a big, surly-looking man- spoke, "It's already cost us a great amount."

"Bullshit," Kaiware snarled from across the table. "Its cost hardly anything compared to your expenses-paid trip to Miiko, if I so rightly remember. And what did you do there, my Lord? Play drinking games while you kissed their royals' ass, that's what! No benefit was brought to us from that."

"Bitch!" the minister snarled back, "You have no right to question what I do. I had a very important deal to negotiate…"

"Which you failed on."

"Don't get all high and mighty with me, woman! You're little machine is a waste of time!"

"Really? Is that what the Prince thinks? Maybe you should ask him."

"Oh, as if I'll fall for that. We all know you've got everyone wrapped around your little finger, Kaiware, sleeping here, mothering there, you…"

"SILENCE!" the King bellowed, glaring all around. The ministers shuffled in their chairs nervously, their eyes falling on the table.

"You're all like children," the King snarled. "I don't have time to sit here dealing with you. My son was better behaved than you lot when he was five."

"I," Kaiware said quietly, glaring across at the Minister of Finance, "gave the King two sons, nothing more. Do not presume that I hold undue influence, for I assure you, I do not. It troubles me that you have such weak faith in out dear King."

The Minister gritted his teeth, his shoulders set square. "I have every faith in the King, and the Prince. I am their humble servant."

"I don't think you are," spoke the Prince, leaning forward, "and quite frankly, I think you're a liability. Miiko is only the beginning of the string of mistakes you've made. I seem to recall the issue with the Morcom nobles, and then there was the Keephor incident."

"That was…"

"What? Before I was born?" Vegeta asked, rising from his chair. "Is that how little you think of me, that you assume I would come to a council meeting without knowing who I was talking to?" He circled slowly around the table, taking his time, making sure the Minister was left sweating. "I know everything about you," he spoke, a grin slowly stretching across his face, "You have made many enemies here. I don't think anyone is going to miss you."

"Sire, please," the Minister croaked. "I swear, my Lord, I swear my loyalty to you."

Vegeta frowned, his mouth turning down in anger. "Really?" he asked. "Then what is this?" he added, pulling out a disk and feeding it into the large computer at the end of the room. Files ran down the wide screen, giving countless details of dodgy dealings, and a spy network with Frieza, involving Saiyans.

"You," Vegeta spoke, "were feeding Frieza information the entire time." He crossed his arms as a list of names scrolled down the screen. "I've been watching you, Minister, over the past week. At first you thought that it was simply a coincidence that a few of your spies showed up dead. But they kept on dying, and every day this week you've grown more nervous as you hear of the deaths of a few more."

The equal looks of shock slowly turned into murderous glares, and the minister faltered even more. "How?"

"I was here for a week before anyone else. I made a thorough check of the palace, including all private rooms. I knew, from my time with Frieza, that he had an established network here; it's how he works. I took pleasure in killing each traitor, slowly. The Earth woman set up equipment that jams any outgoing signals, and I've been monitoring it personally, so you have the pleasure of knowing that your lizard master will not be here to help you.

"I'm not even going to give you the pleasure of dying in battle," Vegeta continued, "You're far too weak for me. But I will give you a chance to run like a coward. I won't even use a scouter when I track you down. Go," he nodded at the door, "run away now. Let's see how long it takes for me to find you."

"He gave me no choice," the minister said, "he said…"

"I don't care what Frieza said!" Vegeta yelled, stalking forward. "Just die!" He shoved his hand into the minister's chest, ripping skin, muscle and bone alike. He watched as the minister sputtered, gasping as his body tried to run with a heart that was no longer there.

"Your children will be known as low-class cowards," Vegeta said, as the man took his final breath.

The Prince stood straight, taking his time to look every surviving minister in the eye. "The Saiyan Crown does not tolerate disloyalty," he spoke slowly, "I will have a new gravity machine completed as soon as possible, no matter the cost. Tell your friends, we have a new ministerial position available."

With the grin of a predator that had finally caught his prey, he stalked out, leaving the living as silent as the dead.

* * *

"What's wrong, kid? You look even worse than you usually do."

Gohan pouted, looking up at his trainer. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, shuffling his feet anxiously. "Dad is going to go to the Saiyan planet with Krillin, and I'm worried about him."

"He's a strong guy," Piccolo told the kid, his green hand ruffling the boy's hair, now cut in a ridiculous bowl-style. "I'm sure Goku will be fine."

"He told me I have to stay with Mom, to keep her safe," the boy mumbled, "but I… I don't know which one to choose! I love both my parents! I want to go with Dad, he could use my help! But I wanna stay with Mom too! What should I do, Piccolo? You always know what to do!"

The Namekian crouched down beside the small child, looking the boy in the eye. "It's your choice, kiddo," he said, "not mine. I can't decide this one for you… although as an adult, I suppose I should be recommending that you listen to your parents… stuff that, though."

Gohan sighed, looking out over the blue lake where he usually fished with his dad. "Would you come with me, Mr. Piccolo, if I went to Vegetasei with Dad?"

"You're asking the guy who tried to kill your father if he now wants to take a month-long trip into space with your family?" Piccolo questioned seriously.

"Yes. I have to think about you too, Piccolo. You… you're as important to me as my parents are," he added, blushing.

Piccolo sighed, standing up again. "I'll think about it, kid. Let's train, in the meantime."

* * *

Vegeta returned to his own wing, his armour still splattered in the half-dried blood of the minister.

"What are you doing here?" he asked a startled Bulma, who stood inside his own bathroom with dripping hair in nothing but a drying cloth. She blushed, pulling the fabric up higher around her chest.

"I ran out of shampoo in my bathroom," she answered, "Oh! Are you hurt?" she asked, noticing the blood smeared across his gloves, arms and torso.

"It's not mine," he replied tersely, removing his gloves and armour quickly. He quirked an eyebrow at her as he began to undress further. "You staying for the show?"

"No!" she replied, he face flushing even more. "I'm just curious, whose blood is that?"

He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Why are you so interested in the people I've killed?" he asked as he pulled off his boots, throwing them in the corner.

Her face drained of colour, while her voice faltered as she spoke. "You killed someone here? Why?"

"The Minister of Finance was a spy for Frieza. I don't see why it should matter to you, woman," he added, standing in front of her in nothing but his plain white underwear. "It doesn't matter to me. I think you forget who I am; I am one of the most feared beings in the universe, people tremble when they here my name. I've killed billions, and I do not hold one ounce of regret for my actions. I am pure evil, foolish girl."

She looked at him quietly, thinking about all the things he would have seen, all the monstrous things he had ever done- acts that she couldn't even begin to imagine. He stood here now, his face covered in tiny specks of someone else's blood, having just admitted to her that he had committed murder.

Despite all of this, she could not hate him. "I just think you're confused- lost- that's all. I can't blame you for becoming what Frieza moulded you to be," she told him quietly, "I just hope you find yourself, someday."

His tail whipped out from behind him, the hairs bristling immediately. "I decide who I am!" he yelled, "Not him! I am like this because this is what I want!"

"Well, I see more in you than that. I think the true Vegeta hides behind what you've done," she replied, stepping quietly out of the room.

"The Prince of Saiyans does not hide!" he yelled as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

After three eventful encounters with Vegeta in under twenty-four hours- if one counted the gravity room disaster- Bulma felt that she needed a small break. She was due to meet Kaiware back in the labs at mid day; after speaking to the Saiyan woman over a private scouter signal the night before, she had reluctantly agreed to return to the work on Vegeta's training technology.

"_I feel like a prisoner,"_ she had told Kaiware over the scouter. _"I miss my home."_

"_I'm not a psychiatrist, Bulma,"_ the other woman had sighed, _"I'm not here to sort out your problems. Besides, most women would die to be in your position, so close to the Prince."_

She had snorted in disgust. _"Yeah right. They're all deluded. I'd rather stay with Nappa, to be honest, than put up with Vegeta's grumpy behavior all the time. No offence to you,"_ she had added.

"_He's like his father,"_ Kaiware had simply replied. _"Persevere with him; that's my advice, if he really is what you want."_

Bulma shook her head as she walked down the palace halls, ignoring the stares of Saiyans she passed. She didn't know what she wanted; Vegeta, the handsome, dark, wild man was so intriguing, and so tempting. A Prince too, heir to an entire planet, and stronger than anyone else she had ever come across- even stronger than Goku, as far as she could tell.

But thinking of the differences between Goku and Vegeta made her shiver in guilt and apprehension. Goku was pure, innocent and carefree. Goku lived his life protecting and loving, without any thought for himself. He was probably out there trying to save her now, somehow. Even if there was no other way to get her, she knew her friends would remedy the situation by using the Earth dragonballs in a year's time.

Then she would leave Vegetasei for good.

The thought came with a pang of sadness, despite the fact that she was prisoner here, always watched with suspicious glances. She would not just be leaving Vegetasei, she would be leaving her new friends, even if they could not admit to the bonds they had formed.

And worst of all, she would leave behind Vegeta, who was ever present on her mind. He was like a poisoned apple; it seemed that only one bite had done enough to infect her with the illness of need. She had hardly slept last night, as her mind had raced over the kiss a thousand times, thinking of the things she could have done differently to keep him there in her arms for a little longer.

Guilt consumed her too; guilt for Yamcha, dead and gone, her ex-lover, killed by the very man she was considering bedding. And what would happen, once she slept with Vegeta? Would he toss her out, once he was done? Was she looking for something he was not capable of giving?

Her feet, continuing on their own accord as she remained deep in thought, led her into the vast library, where she once again encountered the golden-eyed girl.

Bulma stood at the only entrance to the aisle, blinking as she looked over the small Saiyan, who could have been no more than fifteen. The girl, so engrossed in her own book, did not notice her standing there.

"Hi," Bulma said quietly, and the girl jumped, her eyes almost glowing in the darkened aisle.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Bulma continued, holding up her hands. "I doubt I could, actually, you being a Saiyan and all. I'm Bulma."

"Karo," the girl replied quietly. "My name is Karo."

"What are you reading?"

"Just… stuff," the girl blushed, snapping the book shut, and placing it back on the shelf. "Excuse me," she mumbled, brushing past Bulma.

"Wait! Karo!" Bulma called, but the girl was already long gone.

Bulma looked for the book the girl had been reading, her eyebrows rising as she read the cover. "The Saiyan Reproductive System," she murmured. "Interesting."


	16. Unexpected Outcomes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Sixteen: Unexpected Outcomes

Kini kissed her Prince's neck, revelling in the warmth of his body beneath her hands. Today the event she had been hoping for had come about; by 'chance' she had happened to be wandering the palace near the private quarters of the handsome Prince Vegeta, when the man himself had come walking past. It hadn't taken more than a soft flick of the tail and lowered lashes to catch his eye, and thus had began the subtle exchange of body language- a curl of the tail here, a bite of the lip there- that indicated both parties were willing to take things further.

They had ended up in one of the large storage rooms, going at it in a maddened frenzy atop a pile of spare curtains. _Probably not the nicest place_, she mused, _but at least it was with the most powerful man on the planet._ If she could continue to entertain him, her position would certainly rise… perhaps to the point that she could even muscle that alien whore out of his quarters, and take over instead.

She grinned, stretching out across him, her lips seeking his once more.

"Get out."

"Wh… what?" she asked, taken aback by the sudden harshness in his tone.

"You heard me fine the first time, girl. Get Out. You got what you came here to do- one free fuck with the Prince- so now you can go."

"Are you sure you don't want to do it again?" she asked softly, nuzzling into his neck.

"If I have to ask you again, you'll be leaving this room in a body bag," he replied, his eyes narrowing at her. "Get out now. And don't dress in here, I want you gone. You can put your clothes back on in the hallway."

Pushing herself up, she picked up her discarded clothes quietly, aware of the increasing agitation of the Prince, who continued to stare at her with dark intensity. As she backed out of the door, her clothes humiliatingly held in her arms, he spoke once more.

"I'm not interested in doing this again, by the way. It was dull, to say the least. And if I hear that you've bragged about this liaison to anyone, I will not be pleased. You will be best to remember that I don't make idle threats."

She nodded silently, closing the door behind her.

It was safe to say, that had _not_ gone to plan.

* * *

Vegeta flew back to the palace in the dark, his eyes adjusting to the soft light given out by the moon. He had spent the evening training intensely, trying without success to beat annoying thoughts out of his mind.

It had started with that Saiyan woman. Kissing her had made him remember the fact that he had kissed Bulma, and for the rest of that tryst, he had felt as if the blue-haired alien had been sitting in the room, watching disapprovingly.

Now he had this knot in his stomach, making him feel ill at ease. As if somehow his actions had wronged Bulma, despite the fact that she was not his mate.

He stopped in mid air, cursing to himself as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. 'Mate' and Bulma shouldn't have even been in the same sentence. And yet the thought had crossed his mind, just as the thought of bedding her had been plaguing him for the past week.

_I'm going to have to do something about this._

* * *

It had been five days since she had last seen Vegeta. He left before she got up, and did not return until after she had already gone to bed. If it wasn't for the dirty dishes he left in the sink of the large kitchen in his quarters, Bulma would have thought he hadn't been back at all.

To her dismay, the more Vegeta failed to show up, the more irritable she had become. It had culminated in a fit yesterday, aimed at one of the scientists working on the new gravity simulator. She had thrown a tool at the man's head, and received a murderous glare in return.

If Kaiware hadn't been there, she may have received more than that.

Vegeta's mother had simply sighed, and pushed her gently out the lab doors. "Take the day off tomorrow," she had ordered Bulma, "You obviously can't handle the stress."

It was then that she had decided she needed to think of something to take her mind off things. And so, this morning she had woken early to begin baking.

"Eggs, milk, butter…" she mumbled, stirring the contents of a large bowl. "I'm sure I'm forgetting something… sugar… added that already, hmm… I don't think there's an equivalent to vanilla essence on this planet, unfortunately."

She had been happy to learn from the quiet maids that came to stock the kitchen every two days that Saiyans did have many of the same basic foods that were used on Earth; dairy products, for a start, came from big, six-legged beasts that had so much grey fur they looked like walking rain clouds. Eggs came from the black geese common on the planet, one of which Bulma had encountered in her first morning on Vegetasei. The eggs were three times the size of a chicken egg, but the taste was thankfully just the same. Flour was also produced on the planet, although it only came in a wholemeal variety. All in all, it meant that Bulma could easily make food to remind her of home.

She wasn't nearly as good at making cookies as her mother, who cooked food that would be fit for kings, but Bulma hoped that the goodies she was making would be enough to convince a certain Saiyan to help her out with something.

* * *

Ignoring the odd looks, Bulma banged once more on Nappa's door, tapping her feet as she waited for him to answer.

"All right! _All right!_ I'm coming, you impatient bastard!" Nappa yelled as he opened the door, his face pulled down in a scowl. Noticing Bulma he took a step back, his face falling slack. "Oh," he added, "It's you."

"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked, suppressing a smile. "By the way, your armour is on backwards."

"Aw shit," he grumbled as he pulled the stretchy material off, and put it back on the right way around. "Yeah," he told her, "my lousy brother is supposed to be coming by; he wants an audience with the King. I told him not to bother, but…" he shrugged; evidently he believed his brother's issue to be a lost cause.

"So… you're going to introduce him to the King?" Bulma questioned as he stepped outside, locking the door behind him with a swipe card.

"No way," he answered. "He just said that while he was in town we might as well have a decent fight, but I'm not gonna wait around for him all day. Why are you here? Something you want?"

"Do I need a reason to visit you?" she asked with a grin, and broke out laughing at his confused expression. "Yeah, I want something," she told him. "I need to find Raditz's parents; you would know their names, right? Do you think you could help me find them?"

"Why?" he asked, more confused than ever. He scratched his neck unconsciously as they walked, looking down from his towering height at Bulma's tiny form. "Why do you need to find Raditz's parents? They'll just be low-class bums."

"Yeah, and they're the parents of one of my oldest friends, remember. I told you all about Son Goku."

"Kakarot," Nappa grunted, "the weakling Earth Saiyan who was too afraid to show up for the fight. Yeah, I remember."

"He's not a weakling," she said defensively, "he's one of the greatest guys I've ever known. He's saved my life more times than I can count! I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation as to why he didn't show up the day you guys did… he _had _been dead for the past year."

"Yeah, yeah," Nappa mumbled, waving his arm in dismissal of the topic. "He's still a low-class. Raditz told me his parents' names once… Bardock and… Pato? Pae? Pato?" He shrugged, "One of those names. Father is definitely called Bardock, though. I've met the cocky bastard before, he's a wanker."

"Goody," Bulma said sarcastically. "Would you like to meet him again? I could use a bodyguard."

"What's in it for me?"

"A capsule full of home-cooked food," she told him with a grin, holding up the offering.

He took it with a grunt. "Let's go."

* * *

Despite the perverse smells and dirty pavement of the city, getting outside the palace was like a breath of fresh air for Bulma. She looked around excitedly at the various stalls as she wandered through a market with Nappa in tow, her face lighting up at the bright colours and alien items all around.

Nappa, on the other hand, remained stoically silent, aware of the long stares they were eliciting from people. His armour was standard uniform for elites, and stood out easily in this part of town, where men, women and children wandered in grubby clothing, all in a state of disrepair. Some didn't even have boots, and went around barefoot.

He grunted in disgust, taking the time to spit on the pavement as a display of just how much he hated the low-class weaklings. He snarled at a brat that ran into his leg, and the child looked up at him with wide eyes full of fear. Smirking, he picked the runt up by the hair, before booting it into the crowd.

"Nappa!" Bulma yelled, slapping him on the wrist. "You don't attack innocent children just because they're playing! I can't believe you did that to the little guy! Hey, is he okay?" she called out into the crowd. "I'm really sorry!"

"Shhh!" Nappa hissed at her, "He's nothing but a low class, it doesn't matter. Leave it," he said angrily, pushing Bulma along. "Let's just find the ones we came for and get going."

"Man, who rolled out of the wrong side of bed this morning…" she grumbled to herself, running a hand through her hair as she continued to weave through the crowd.

* * *

On a distant planet, situated far outside the reach of the Cold Empire, a scholar frowned as he read the data his latest space probe had sent back.

"What is it?" his small wife asked, patting his brown tail lovingly. "Is there something wrong?"

"You know how my home planet was destroyed, not long after they sent me here?" he replied, looking away from the screen in order to pick up his wife, who, at two feet tall, was very light. "Well, I sent a probe out there, just to bring me back some rubble from the planet's remains… for remembrance," he added, blushing.

"Was it worse than you expected?" Gure asked, staring up at her handsome husband. She had known him since she was a child, and had fallen for him despite the numerous differences between them, beginning with the fact that he was a Saiyan, and she clearly was not. Her kind, for starters, had grey-green skin and pink limbs, no hair, internal ears, small nostril slits, and small, black eyes.

Her husband's kind were very different. Saiyans grew tall, with masses of soft, black hair, large eyes and tan-coloured skin. They had tails, and could change into monsters on a full moon, too.

He had told her that he was weak for his people, and very short. She smiled softly, brushing back the bangs that sprouted forward from his slight widow's peak. She didn't care what his people may have thought; she thought he was amazing. Far stronger than any man of her own kind, he was twice her size, well muscled, noble and fiercely loyal.

"No," he told her, "the results from the scan aren't bad… actually, they're good… I think." He sighed, kissing her head, "The scans were made yesterday, look." He pointed to the computer screen, on which images of a complete planet, full of cities, was shown. High power levels were even recorded by the probe.

"But?" Gure frowned, looking back up at her husband. "Is it real? How?"

"I don't know, but somehow Vegetasei is back again." He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he remembered the planet through blurred memories made long ago. He remembered the red sky, the shining suns, and his mother's pretty face.

He remembered his brother, too, and his father… a man that was always distant, and always disappointed.

His most vivid memory was the day he left. Only three, he had been wrenched from his mother's arms, screaming and kicking that he didn't want to go. His mother, usually reluctant to show emotion, had cried, tears pouring down her face.

He remembered his father's booming voice and fierce scowl as the man's big hands shook his small body, telling him to listen. "Be good for them," he had told him sternly, "they will take care of you."

And then his father had done something unexpected, and pulled him forward into a bone-crushing hug, whispering that he was sorry, so, so sorry.

He had been bundled into a space pod then, the door snapping shut in front of him. He had banged against the red glass, pleading to stay, calling out to his family.

He remembered his big brother, only five years old himself, standing on the tarmac, a pout plastered on his small features. _"Goodbye, brother," _Vegeta had told him, through the mental link they shared. It had been the last time he had ever heard that voice.

"Love, Love, what's wrong?" Gure whispered worriedly, shaking her husband's arm.

"Hmm? What?" he asked, blinking out of his reverie.

"I said, I'll follow you anywhere," she told him, reaching up to brush the tears that ran down his cheeks. "If you need to go back, I'll come with you to Vegetasei."

"Oh, Gure," he whispered, pulling her tight against his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered, "my Prince Tarble."

* * *

Nappa cursed again as he stomped around another corner and saw nothing but a sea of black heads. The stupid woman had wandered off without him, and he couldn't find her anywhere. To make matters worse, the market was in a no-flying-zone to avoid air collisions above all the stalls, so he couldn't even get a bird's eye view of the place without having the Authorities on his tail.

The Authorities, as everyone called them, were a special force of elites, hand-picked by the King. Known for their underhanded techniques in bringing down opponents, including giving shocks to the tail with high-voltage tazers, they worked as crowd controllers, referees for impromptu tournaments, and did any other jobs that the King deemed necessary. Although they were rarely seen around the palace, the Authorities were a common backdrop in the low-class areas, and could be found on every corner, standing in their black uniformed armour, with reflective glass scouters worn over the left eye.

Nappa snorted as he passed another one of them, standing still as a statue. As a teenager he had gotten into a fight with one of them. It hadn't been pretty.

His head whipped around as he heard a scream in a pitch no Saiyan would ever make, and ploughed through the crowd in the direction of Bulma's cry.

Bulma screamed as the Saiyan man picked her up, his grubby hands squeezing her indelicately. "Let me go, you pig!" she yelled, slamming his hand against his chest. "Let me go!"

"Aww, come on," he grinned down at her, revealing that he was missing some teeth, "Gimme a kiss, pretty lady, you know you want a Saiyan like me."

"I already have one!" she shrieked, leaning her head away from the man. "Prince Vegeta, for your information! I stay with him! If you don't put me down right now, he'll kill you!"

The man laughed, but his face quickly turned to shock as he gasped, his eyes rolling back. Bulma shrieked again, but found herself being held up in a much gentler grip. She blinked, her mouth dropping open as she looked into the face of the man who had saved her.

"Goku?"

"Hey!" came Nappa's booming voice through the crowd. "Get your hands off her!"

* * *

"So, I hear training starts up again next week, they're gonna dissolve all of our squads and put us into some kinda general army to fight against Frieza…"

"No!" one of the Saiyan women around the large table cut in. "We keep our squads, idiot! We go into the army, but we keep our squads!"

"So, hold up," asked one of the men, peering across the table over his mate's shoulder, who sat firmly in his lap. "You're saying we just stay in our squads, and the army aint happening."

"No!" more Saiyans yelled.

"I'm saying we dissolve the…"

"I'm saying we keep…"

"Is it compulsory?"

"SHUT UP!" Pae yelled, quieting the room. "Who gives a shit?" she continued. "We'll be training, one way or another. Just listen to the news reports if you wanna know; you won't find the correct info while sitting in a bar." The tall woman stalked out, her ponytail of thick black hair swinging out behind her.

"Pae!" another male called behind her as she left. "You better go over to the square! Reports on the scouter just said Bardock's gotten into some massive fight! There's an elite involved! Whoo, this could be the end for him!"

"An elite?" she frowned. "Shit." Without any further delay she took to the air, ready to berate her stupid man for taking on someone twice his strength, _again_.

* * *

"Hey!" Bulma called, staring up at the dots in the sky. "Nappa! Calm down, for crying out loud! Stop fighting! He saved me! That man saved me!"

"Geez, I doubt Bardock's gonna last more than a minute against an elite like that," she heard a woman say, and listened with shock as a man grunted in reply.

_Bardock?_ she thought, _That's Bardock? He's Goku's Dad!_

"Hey!" she called again, cupping her hands around her mouth, "Nappa! Stop!"

Above the square floated the two warriors, engaged in vicious combat. Bardock snarled as Nappa struck again, but grinned as he managed to tip the bigger man off balance in order to knee him in the guts. They continued like that, ignoring the crowd gathering below, nor the Authorities hovering around them.

"No blasts, guys," called one of the uniformed men, floating a few meters away, "You have clearance to fight up here, but no blasts!"

"Yeah," Bardock called back, barely dodging another blow. "I can take this big gump down without blasts anyway."

"Why you!" Nappa snarled, aiming a kick to the shoulder. "I won't even break a sweat while snapping your prissy little neck."

"Dammit!" Bulma hissed as she tried to muscle her way through the crowd of overgrown Saiyans. "Hey!" she yelled, "I'm trying to move here!" She looked up and moaned in dismay; all she could see was tanned skin and masses of black hair around her. "Why do Saiyans have to be so tall!" she cried.

The surprised Saiyans blinked as they looked down at the small alien woman shoving her way through the mass of people, and began to whisper to themselves. "Hey," one man said, nudging his neighbour, "she's got a nice ass for an alien, huh? I'd like to try her out."

"Man you're an idiot," his friend told him, "she's the one that started the fight! She's that elite's woman, and Bardock had his hands on her!"

"Why would Bardock touch her?" asked another man, joining in on the conversation. "He's been with Pae since they were kids! I sure as hell wouldn't wanna make her mad! She's the worst female I've ever met!"

"Psh, you only say that 'cause she beat you up, weakling!" teased the first guy, cuffing his friend over the ear. They watched as the alien woman continued to cause trouble.

"Move it or lose it, bucko!" Bulma yelled, tugging on a woman's tail. The Saiyan jerked and hissed at her, but kept her distance as the rumours spread about just who the alien was.

"Finally!" Bulma exclaimed with a sigh as she reached the edges of the crowd, and was once again able to see the two fighting figures. "NAPPA!" she screamed. "Stop it, NOW!"

"Is he your man?" asked a woman, walking up to tower beside her. Bulma looked up, shielding her eyes from the glare of the twin suns as she examined the Saiyan woman. She was moderately attractive, with a muscular body and thick black hair that reached her backside, despite the fact that it was tied up by a band that sat high on her head.

"Ugh… Nappa was just showing me around the city. He's a friend."

"Not a lover?"

"No! I… I stay in the palace… I'm working on new technology for the Prince. Look, do you mind flying me up there? I need to stop Nappa before he kills the poor guy."

"Why do you care about the other one?" the woman asked, her head cocking to the side.

"Because, I know his son, and I want to talk to him about it! Please, just take me up there!"

"You know my son?" the woman asked, taking a step back, her eyes raking up and down Bulma. "Which one? Raditz or Kakarot?"

"Kaka… wait! You're his mother! Oh my god!" Bulma exclaimed, extending out a hand, "Hi!"

Pae stared at the odd creature, not understanding the woman's strange behavior at all. "Just hold on," she told the small creature with a sigh, picking her quickly. "You better know what to say to that elite."

"Oh yeah," Bulma replied, refusing to look down as they climbed higher in the air. "I know exactly what to say to that stupid oaf."

"Nappa!" she yelled again as they continued to rise, "Nappa, stop! He saved my life!"

Colly, a member of the Authorities, scanned the image of the alien female- who was currently in some low-class woman's grip- through his scouter, to see if he could identify her.

His mouth dropped open as the file on her came back, identifying just who she was, and her place of residence.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?" he asked himself, flying forward.

"Hey, this is a no-flying-zone!" called one of the black-clad Authorities, throwing himself in Pae's way, "And you should not be handling the Prince's whore like that!"

"The Prince's whore?" Pae asked, looking down at the alien in her arms.

"Look!" Bulma yelled back at the Saiyan's form of law enforcement, "Can you stop them! I want to speak to both of them! Now!"

"For you, my Lady, I will stop the fight." His hand moved to the scouter over his ear as he called for backup. Within moments six of the uniformed men surrounded the two fighting Saiyans, all of them yelling for the fight to stop.

Bulma watched with shock as they moved forward, attacking both Bardock and Nappa with surprising speed. Both men screamed, and Bulma cursed as she realized just what was being done to them, now that their bodies hung limp in the hands of the other men.

"They… oh shit! That must have hurt!" she exclaimed looking at Pae. "They shocked them through the tail!"

"I know," Pae replied, "It's the only way to stop Saiyans when they're fighting like that. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Maybe… maybe I should talk to you about your son Kakarot another day," Bulma told the Saiyan woman, as she eyed up Nappa's angry face, scowling at her as he remained hanging in the arms of the other Saiyans.

Looking over at the weak form of her mate, who was clearly pissed off, but unable to move for a good ten minutes yet, Pae nodded. "Yes," she told the alien woman, "Another day would be better."

* * *

Bulma sighed as she stepped through the door into Vegeta's wing, her tired feet dragging across the carpeted floor. Kicking off her shoes, she groaned and collapsed in a pile of strewn limbs on the large couch by the window, taking in a deep breath as she felt the warm sunlight make her skin tingle.

"Gods, you're a noisy creature," Vegeta commented, stepping around the corner and startling her. He laughed at her expression, a mix of shock and anger, and the general disarray of her dress.

"Ugh, go away Vegeta," she mumbled, laying her head back on the couch, "I've had a long day."

"Why do I smell many Saiyans on you? You reek."

"Nappa took me into the city today. I went to meet Goku's parents, but Nappa got into a fight with Bardock, and I got stuck in a crowd, and… ugh, I have the worst headache."

"You left the Palace?" Vegeta asked, his frown deepening.

"Yeah, with Nappa, though. It's no big deal, I am allowed to do that, you know."

"You went to visit the relatives of your pathetic friend?" he screwed his nose up in disgust. "For what purpose?"

"For the purpose of finding out who they are! What's with the twenty questions? I just wanted to meet the people that gave me one of the coolest friends around, okay? Is that enough for you, Vegeta?"

He grunted in reply, stalking out of the room. "That gravity chamber better be ready soon, woman!" he called back to her.

Bulma groaned again, hanging her arm over her eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

Pae opened the door, stepping back as she saw two members of the Authorities waiting on the other side.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her muscles tensing automatically.

"We need to speak to Bardock. Today his power level was recorded at a level far beyond the threshold for middle-class. We need to discuss his requirement to participate in further tests," spoke the man on the right, his face serious behind his shiny scouter.

The second man was friendlier. He grinned, the corner of his visible eye crinkling. "Congratulations, ma'am," he told her, "Your mate just moved up a class."

* * *

_Warm lips kissed her softly, first on the temple, then the nose, then the mouth, the chin… they continued to kiss, drinking each other in, revelling in each other's heat._

"_Bulma," he spoke, and she sighed, running a hand across his tanned skin._

"_Yamcha?" she asked, frowning as her hands ran over a scar on his broad chest, "When did you get this?"_

"_I'm not Yamcha," the mysterious man told her, his lips descending on her once more. Despite the revelation that he wasn't who she thought, she felt safe, warm, and loved._

_She nuzzled into his neck, loving the smell of the stranger's skin. She had smelt him before… somewhere._

_She smiled, realizing who it was. "Vegeta," she whispered softly, "Vegeta."_

Vegeta froze as the woman, currently leaning against his neck, spoke his name. He looked down at the exotic alien in his arms, wondering if she was awake, but her slow, even breaths signaled that she was still sleeping.

She had fallen asleep where he had found her that afternoon, lying by the window. He had been tempted to just leave her there, but in the end the strange pull in his stomach had won out. _Besides_, he had convinced himself, _if I leave her there she'll yell at me for it tomorrow._

He pushed her door open with his tail, entering quietly. He was halfway to her bed when she mumbled again.

"Mmm, Vegeta… do that again."

His eyes widened as he froze once more, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. _Just what kind of dream is she having?_ he thought to himself, _And it's about me!_

She whimpered as he lay her down on the bed, her body rolling over in the hope of finding the warmth she had suddenly lost. With a sigh, Vegeta pulled the blankets over her, turning to leave. His eyes caught something on her dresser- a book- and his eyebrows rose as he made out the lettering on the cover.

"Vegeta?" Bulma mumbled, her eyes fluttering open, "Sthat you?" He turned back, looking down at the woman, who blinked back at him, bleary eyed in the dark.

"Sleep, woman," he told her in a whisper, "It's just me."

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sure most people have heard of Tarble by now, but if you haven't, he was introduced in the special _Yo, The Return of Son Goku and Friends_ that came out last year, and is Vegeta's little brother.

Oh, and even though Nappa can't be hurt when someone grabs his tail, I think getting an electric shock to that part of the body (a big shock) would be enough to incapacitate him for a while.


	17. The Makings of a Good Man

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter 17: The Makings of a Good Man

"Middle class."

"That's a good thing," Pae replied, staring at her mate from across the room. He shook his head, his hand unconsciously tracing the scar that ran across his cheek as he thought.

"I don't even know if the rest of the squad are alive… the King said every Saiyan that died that day was wished back, right? That should include Tora and the rest."

"They didn't die here, though. Could they be somewhere else?"

"Meat… yeah, they could be there. Damned if I know, Pae…" he trailed off with a sigh, "But I don't want to wind up as the weakling in a middle-class squad. And I won't have them placing my woman under the leadership of some other male."

Pae grinned, stalking over to him, her tail curling around his. "You're sexy when you're protective, you know that?"

"Mphm," he grunted in reply, taking the time to nip at her lower lip. "Yeah, I know," he said, smirking as she shoved him onto the bed.

"Arrogant bastard, I should teach you a lesson."

"I'm at your mercy, oh Saiyan Goddess," Bardock grinned, stretching out. "Now come 'ere."

* * *

_"All members of the Ginyu force are to report for their next mission now. All members of the Ginyu force are to report for their next mission now. All members of the Ginyu force are to report for their next mission now."_

The sirens sounded around the base on Frieza 72, red lights flashing, making the dull grey walls look as if they had been splattered with blood. Men rushed about, preparing the five pods needed for Frieza's most specialist squad.

"Sir, your scouter!" called a worker, running to hand the leader of the squad his equipment.

"Ahh, yes," Captain Ginyu replied, fitting the console to his face. "We wouldn't want to forget that. Tell me, do you know anything about this mission?"

"Uh... no sir," shook the tech worker, "Top secret, they say this one is."

"Ahh well, better get going then. Don't want to leave Frieza waiting." Ginyu watched as his squad members climbed into their respective pods, before he too climbed in, making himself comfortable. He leaned back with sigh, closing his eyes as he felt the pod take off.

"_Estimated time until destination_," the computer spoke, "_twenty standard days. Destination: Earth, coordinate FX50_."

* * *

Bulma jerked on her jeans, banging her hip roughly against the dresser as she did so. "Ffffuck," she hissed, her eyes watering as she winced through the initial pain, "Owww." She grabbed her hair tie, roughly binding back her blue locks in a bun, and ran out of the bedroom, heading for the entrance into the public area of the palace.

_I hope I haven't missed them_, she thought to herself as she ran down the corridors, her breath coming in laboured gasps. She skidded around a corner, almost running into a guard, before continuing on the path she now knew well.

The last time she had worked in the labs, the day before last, Kaiware had told her that the King had scheduled another meeting, specifically to decide on who would take the place of the recently deceased Finance Minister.

Bulma, by now, had heard all about the former minister's unseemly demise at the hands of Vegeta. Kaiware had remained tactfully brief on the methods Vegeta used to dispose of his victim, but others had not. Zorn, an eyewitness, had caught Bulma in one of the palace corridors, and she had been forced to listen to his descriptive account of the minister's death. The King's advisor, it seemed, enjoyed scaring aliens; his mouth had bordered on a smile, while his eyes had glinted with mischief, as he had described the way in which Vegeta had torn open a man's chest.

"_If you're trying to scare me away from Vegeta, it won't work," _she had hissed, finally gaining the courage to push past the domineering Saiyan. _"I've witnessed firsthand what he can do. Didn't you know, he killed my former boyfriend?"_

That had put an end to Zorn's taunts, and she hadn't seen the man since. _Thankfully_, she added to herself, _he's too damn creepy_.

She came to the large foyer that was situated outside the King's conference room, just in time to see the various ministers filing out from the morning meeting. "Kaiware!" she called, spotting the small woman amongst the small mob of muscled creatures. Making her way over, she added a breathless greeting.

"What has you so flustered?" Kaiware asked, one eyebrow rising.

"Vegeta…is he… still… here?"

"What is it now?" came his voice from directly behind her, causing her to jump in fright. She glared ruefully as he smirked at her, his eyes taking in her disheveled appearance.

"I need a… lift, since you fly… out for training… anyway," she replied, still gasping for breath. "And a day off," she added, turning to Kaiware. "I need to see some Nameks… and some Saiyans."

"Is this about those low-class soldiers? I heard Nappa had an incident yesterday," Kaiware said questioningly.

Bulma rolled her eyes exasperatedly, letting out a small groan. "I told him not to fight Bardock; it's his own damn fault."

Kaiware smirked, shaking her head. "That man is as stubborn as a Simbon mule," she grinned, "I don't think he's ever listened to a woman, and I doubt he ever will. Now, about having a day off."

* * *

Zarbon grinned, his golden eyes glinting in the fluorescent light as he leaned closer to the pink female. She was a new recruit, and he had been ordered to show her around the place. "So here," he spoke softly in her ear, "are the sleeping quarters. Let me show you inside."

The woman's face flushed red, her pointed ears turning a brighter pink beneath the wisps of purple hair. "Sir..." she spoke, "I'm here to fight, not to..."

"Zarbon," called Dodoria, his fat form appearing in the ship's open elevator. "Frieza wants us, now."

"Fine," Zarbon drawled with a sigh. "Perhaps another time," he told the female, an apologetic look on his face. He squeezed her rump in goodbye, smirking as she jumped with a squeak. Sliding himself in the elevator beside Dodoria, he made a final check that his earrings were in place.

"You look fine, princess," Dodoria slurred, chuckling to himself.

"Shut up," Zarbon snapped, before plastering a fake smile on his face. "Master!" he called as the door opened. "You wanted us, my Lord?"

"I don't know why I never thought of it earlier," Frieza told his top employees, "I _almost_ feel foolish."

"You are a true genius, Lord Frieza," Ginyu replied over the scouter link, "I would have never thought to link the woman's planet with the Saiyans. It makes perfect sense, now."

"Yes," Frieza spoke, "it seems the most likely place Vegeta would go, which is why I am sending your force there, Ginyu. Zarbon and Dodoria will be accompanying you, I have decided," he continued, turning to look at the two other beings in the room, "they will arrive on Earth a day after you."

"Is that really necessary, my Lord?" Ginyu asked, "My squad is perfectly capable of dealing with Vegeta."

"Yes it is necessary!" Frieza snapped. "You need to search an entire planet, Ginyu! And I do not want Vegeta killed; I want the pleasure of doing that myself." He let out a breath, leaning back against his hover chair. "If you search the planet thoroughly, and find no trace of Vegeta, I want you to purge it. It won't take you long at all; they're weaklings, those Earthlings. But the planet is quite valuable, so don't damage the landscape. It will make me quite a lot of money, I think."

"Sire," replied Ginyu, Zarbon and Dodoria in chorus.

Shutting down the scouter link, Frieza turned to his lackeys. "Go on, then," he dismissed them with a wave of the hand, "Go to Earth, and bring me back my monkey."

* * *

Bulma closed her eyes against the force of the wind, burying her face in the crook of Vegeta's neck. She blushed, remembering the dream she had the night before, and turned her head so that she was looking out over his back, at the sight of the capital fading quickly into the distance.

"Will you stop squirming, woman?" Vegeta grumbled, tightening his grip on her. "I might just drop you."

"Don't you dare," she replied, looking up at him. She sighed, shaking her head.

"What?"

"I just realized something... I have no idea why, but I trust that you won't. I must be going mad."

Vegeta was quick to hide his surprise at the comment, but not quick enough to avoid Bulma's detection. She forgot everything, though, when he laughed, shaking his head. "You were already mad when I met you, woman," he told her.

"Oh, you're just an ass, you know that?" she replied, anger flaring in her eyes. "The mass-murderer calls _me_ mad... well I'll tell you something buddy, if I'm mad, you're downright insane. You've got more issues than I have shoes."

"Ugh, just shut up," he replied. "I don't know why I agreed to this."

Nail stood with gritted teeth as the Saiyan Prince touched down within their makeshift village. Bulma grinned, hopping out of the Saiyan's arms, bending down to hug the children that had rushed towards her. The Saiyan merely snarled before taking off again, flying over the village with great speed.

"Nail, I have a favour to ask of you," Bulma told him, carrying little Duramu in her arms. "You see, I need a bodyguard, and my last one doesn't really want to cooperate right now."

Nail sighed. "What exactly do I have to do?"

* * *

Bulma kept a tight grip on Nail's arm as they wandered through the various streets. Saiyans stared at them, with younger ones pointing and yelling loudly. She shrieked as one boy picked up a bottle and threw it their way, but Nail blasted it effortlessly before it could hit.

"Here," she spoke, pointing to a small, run down building. "This one."

"Hmm, so the little minx that caused me so much trouble yesterday shows her face again," Bardock spoke, raising an eyebrow as the aliens stepped through the door. Pae sent him a stern glare, making the corner of his mouth twitch. Like many mated Saiyans, both he and Pae had a tendency to be overprotective of each other.

The alien female laughed, her face lighting up in such a way that made it simple for Bardock to understand just why the Prince kept her as his whore. She was an extremely attractive creature, if a little odd looking with her blue hair and pale eyes. But her body looked great, with ample curves and wide hips for child bearing.

"Bardock," Pae snarled, catching his wandering eyes. She gave him a long look, clearly telling him he was treading on thin ice.

He grinned then, chuckling. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Nail, he's a Namekian. I thought I better bring someone with me, I'm Bulma, by the way."

Bardock looked down at her extended hand, blinking. "This some form of greeting?" he asked, mimicking her actions. The female laughed again, grasping his hand.

"We shake hands where I'm from," she told him, "to say hello."

"Hmm," he replied, pulling back his hand. "Do that to most Saiyans and they'll flip you over and stab you through the back for threatening to attack."

"Th... threatening to attack?" the female stuttered, bumping back into the Namekian.

Bardock sighed. "Saiyans keep to themselves, for the most part. We don't like more bodily contact than necessary. And we really don't like getting tasered in the tail, by the way."

The alien woman blushed, rocking back on her heels. "Sorry about that," she said empathetically, "I tried to tell Nappa what the deal was... at least he got tasered too, huh?"

Bardock grunted in reply. "So... you know Kakarot?"

* * *

Hours later, after numerous breaks for food, Bulma let out a breath, placing her hands flat on her knees with a soft slap. "So, that's his whole life story... I, I'm really sorry about your older son. Goku- Kakarot- he had no choice... Raditz took his son, and Goku's strongly against harming innocent beings, so he was never going to agree to the demands Raditz set. Like I told you, he's risked his life for the sake of the Earth many, many times before."

She looked down, glancing every now and then through lowered lashes at the Saiyans who sat silently across from her. Nail stood behind her in the corner of the small room, which was devoid of furniture apart from two couches and a small table. It seemed that Goku's parents lived minimally.

"Raditz is dead," Bardock spoke, staring at his hands, lightly clasped together. "Stupid idiot, trying to steal his brother's kid. What the fuck was he thinking?"

"It would have worked in most cases... he would have been surprised to find Kakarot so... different," Pae replied, her eyes resting on the sky outside the window. "I've never heard of a Saiyan that acts the way Kakarot does."

"Goku is a good guy," Bulma stressed.

"Well that's just it," Pae spoke, "he's 'good'. How many Saiyans could truly say that? None on this planet, except for Bardock, maybe. He didn't go to Hell when he died like the rest of us did. Still, he's one of the best killers I've ever met."

Bulma blanched as Bardock grunted. "Yeah, well that was a long time ago, Pae. I don't think I'll be doing anything like that anymore."

"Hmm," the Saiyan woman replied. "Don't let anyone else hear you say that."

Bulma cleared her throat, hoping to change the subject. "So," she began, "do you have any questions? I wish I had photos to show you, but Goku looks just like you, Bardock, minus the scar and dark tan."

"Well I knew he would," Pae replied, looking at her mate. "As soon as I saw Kakarot I knew he was his father's spitting image. What does Kakarot's son look like? He's half Earthling, right? Does he even look Saiyan?"

"Yeah," Bulma replied, "He was born with a tail, he's got black eyes and hair- it's shaggy looking too, like Saiyan hair..." she trailed off, biting her lip as she noticed Pae scowl a little more, "um... he's real strong, too. Actually, Piccolo said Gohan displayed a lot of fighting potential during the fight with Raditz."

"It's getting late, Bulma," Nail interrupted, "the suns are getting low in the sky." At this Bulma peered out the window, her eyebrows rising as she realized time really had passed quickly.

"I better get going," she said, standing up. "It's been good to meet you. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"I doubt that, since you stay at the palace. Our class isn't exactly welcome there," Pae replied.

"But if you need... an ally," Bardock added, "come here. We will honour the friendship our son has with you."

* * *

Bulma returned to Vegeta's wing to find the Prince standing in his usual spot by the window. Her heart twisted as she watched him silently; he stood as still as a statue, his scarred back straight, the tanned skin glowing softly in the moonlight. He wore nothing but loose bedroom pants, dyed in a dull grey.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she realized she had been crying, the tears silently rolling down her cheeks. She was crying for the world, for the universe, for the fact that so many children, born innocent, were soon corrupted by all the darkness around them. She was crying because her dreams of space travel and civilized aliens had been shattered by abduction, abuse, treachery and fear.

Most of all, she was crying out of loneliness.

Her loneliness, and his.

Watching him like that, she saw past all the facades he put forth. Yes, he was strong, brave, and even evil. But he was just another Saiyan, just like Bardock and Pae, just like Goku. A man that had been stolen as a boy, ripped from his home, made to see and breathe and do such evils that would make anyone weaker- anyone with less determination than he- see death as their only escape.

He had persevered, holding onto nothing but hope of killing a monster, the faint memories of his homeland, and the chance that he could one day be free. And even here, back on his home planet, the weight of the chains that bound him to his old master could still be felt. It was why he trained so hard, Bulma realized. He would kill Frieza, or die trying. But he wouldn't go back to being a slave.

And he remained different too- different from the other Saiyans around him. It was not something he ever voiced, and it wasn't something she would dare to bring up, but she saw the way he stood alone from others; barred from a normal life not only by his royal blood, but also from his years away from the planet, and the alien customs he brought back with him. Simple mannerisms marked him out from the rest; the man who had seen himself as the representative of all things Saiyan, now found that there were aspects of Saiyan culture he had never known before.

She took in a shaky breath, quietly moving forward, until she stood directly behind him. His muscles flinched slightly as she touched his back, spreading her palms flat against the warm skin. Stepping forward again, she pressed herself to him, her face nuzzling into his hair, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"You aren't alone," she whispered, her tears falling on his shoulder. "We aren't alone." He didn't respond, but he didn't push her away with his usual gruffness, either, and she took that as a positive sign.

"I'm not a good man, Bulma," he told her in a low voice, after minutes of silence. "I never will be."

"You are a man," she whispered after a pause, smiling softly into his hair, "and for now, I think that's enough. Everyone has their flaws."

"You would overlook the murder of billions of people?" he asked, his head turning as his eyes swiveled to meet hers.

"I don't condone it, and I don't want to ignore the truth. But if no one gives you a chance to put it behind you, how will you ever change?"

"I don't want to change, woman, you're missing the point." His tail- now unwound from his waist- flicked angrily at her shins, and she sighed, stepping away.

"Maybe one day you will," she whispered.

She left him there, his body a bronze statue, tough and strong, his dark eyes turning once again to the moon.

* * *

Bardock awoke in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, the sounds of helpless cries still ringing in his head.

"What is it?" Pae asked, her voice thick with drowsiness as her tail found his under the sheets.

"Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep, Pae."

"Hmm," she mumbled, rolling over. Bardock sighed, lying back against his pillow.

_I hope it was just a dream, and not the future._


	18. Tales and Tails

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Eighteen: Tales and Tails

Chi Chi woke suddenly in terror, the awful feeling that she was all alone making her freeze in shock. As the muffled sounds of her husband's sleeping form reached her ears she sighed, relaxing back down into her pillow.

It had been a terrible dream. She had been trapped in endless darkness, left to stumble around with no sense of direction. She had fallen more times than she could count, feeling the pain of sharp objects tearing her skin every time.

Worst of all, she had been alone. Not alone in the sense that Goku had gone out for the day, or that Gohan had gone fishing with his grandfather. No, she had been alone, as if she were the only being in existence; the only being that had _ever_ existed.

And throughout the dream, she had tried to remember her family. She knew she had some, but the images of their faces had faded away before she could grasp them. Even their names had failed to come to her lips. Struggling against the endless black, she had cried out in desperation.

She switched on the bedside lamp now, slowly moving in the bed so not to jostle Goku. It didn't matter anyway; once he was asleep he usually didn't wake up until morning.

She watched him now, tears springing to her eyes, even as she smiled. He was beautiful, with glossy black hair and smooth skin, tanned from days in the sun. He slept on his stomach, his face half-pressed into the pillow as it faced her, a slight curve on his lips signaling that he was having happy dreams.

Ever since she was a child, she had been drawn to that innocent face. Even when he was just a boy, his face still round with youth, she had known he was handsome. And strong; she had fought him playfully on their first date. Looking back now, she knew he hadn't even known what a date was.

As she often did, she brushed back the bangs from his forehead, thanking the gods for giving him to her. Now, knowing that he had been born on a different planet, it made the gift seem even more special. More tears sprang forth as she pictured life, had he not been sent to Earth.

He hadn't known what marriage was, either. By then, she was already hopelessly in love with him, despite the fact that she had only seen him a few times. Regardless of his lack of knowledge on the matter, and his lack of love, he had married her anyway, keeping to the words of his promise made years before.

They had spent the first night of their impromptu marriage under the stars, out in the open. She closed her eyes, remembering the smell of crushed grass under her hair, and the face of an embarrassed virgin blushing down at her.

"_I've never done this before,"_ he had whispered to her, _"but I think I know what to do, I saw something like this on Master Roshi's TV. Have you done this before, Chi Chi?"_

"_No,"_ she had whispered back, _"We can learn together. Come and kiss me, Son Goku. Here, on the lips."_

He had then, and they had joined together as husband and wife, lovers and friends. It had been a good night, under the stars, on their search for the Bansho fan.

Months later, he had told her the words she wanted to hear. Wakened- as she often was in the early days- by his hungry lips on her skin, she had turned to him in her half-sleep, yielding to his needs even before she was fully alert. Afterwards he had held her close, his rough hands smoothing back her damp hair.

"_Sometimes I can't help myself," _he had whispered, _"I have to touch you, and kiss you, and… I think I love you, Chi Chi, and I'm real glad about it."_

Turning now, she switched off the lamp, trying hard to suppress the rising feeling of panic. Tomorrow he was leaving, heading for the planet that had turned him away as a baby. His own monstrous brother had killed him; how could she be sure this wasn't the last night he would lie beside her? He had already been wished back once, if he were to die again, he would not be returning.

She jerked as she felt a touch on her arm, and immediately her back was pressed against him, his strong arms wrapping around her as he made comforting noises in her ear. "Don't cry," he whispered, and she knew he had smelt the tears; a strong nose was another Saiyan thing, she supposed.

"I'm afraid for you, Goku," she whispered back, her hand tightening on his thigh. "I'm terrified."

"Don't be," came his reply in the dark as he turned her, his lips finding hers with ease. His hands slid lower as he pulled her closer still, her legs instinctually opening.

"Put a condom on," she whispered between kisses, holding back.

"No," he replied. "I wanna leave a part of me with you, Chi. I'll be back, for you and Gohan, and if I'm lucky, there'll be a baby in you too."

* * *

Gohan stood before the Capsule Corp. spaceship, a deep frown plastered on his face. His father sighed, placing large hands atop Gohan's small shoulders, before crouching down so that father and son met eye-to-eye.

"You have to stay, Gohan," Goku told him, adopting the serious manner that he usually reserved for battle. "You need to stay to protect your mother."

"But… Tien and Chiaotzu will still be here! They'll protect mom!"

Goku shook his head. "No, son, I want _you_ to stay, to take care of your mom. She needs you, more than you realize. It really upset her when I died, and you were away from home… I don't want her to be that sad again. Do you understand, son?"

"But the Saiyans are dangerous!" Gohan interjected. "They could hurt you!"

"And they could hurt you, Gohan. Don't you remember what Raditz did? He was my own brother, and he still took you and tried to kill me. No, you're staying, and that's final."

"But Piccolo will come too! He won't let…"

"I said no, Gohan!" Goku snapped, raising his voice. "I'm sorry son, but you can't come." He pulled his son's stiff body into his arms, giving the boy a strong hug. "I'll be back in no time, little man. Don't you worry." With a final pat on the boy's head, he stood up and slowly made his way up the ramp after Krillin.

"Good luck, Goku," Dr. Briefs spoke, stepping away from the spacecraft.

The tail-less Saiyan nodded curtly, his face still serious as the door of the ship hissed shut.

* * *

"Karo!" Bulma called, waving her hands to attract the figure clad in robes from across the mess hall. Saiyans lifted their heads, momentarily forgetting the food on their plates- a great feat for Saiyans- in order to observe the latest antics of the Prince's whore. With grunts of dismissal they turned back to their foods, ignoring the shouts of the small creature, making another appearance in a strange outfit.

"Karo," Bulma said again, meeting the Saiyan girl as she picked up a tray of food. "I've been hoping to talk to you."

"Why?" the girl asked, glancing around. "You're making a spectacle of us."

Bulma looked around at the mass of hungry Saiyans, all busy eating like pigs. "No one's staring," she shrugged.

"That's because they're listening," Karo replied, heading for the door.

Bulma watched the girl weave her way quickly through the packed room, before following along herself.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" the girl asked as Bulma sat down beside her on the garden lawn. "Everyone else does, and that's the way I like it."

"Well, you just didn't seem so angry like everyone else is... and, well, with your eyes… I just…"

"What? Thought I wouldn't treat you like a freak because I'm one too?"

"No! I mean… you aren't a freak. And neither am I. You're just a pretty Saiyan that happened to be born with different coloured eyes… it's neat."

Karo shot her a sharp glance, before rolling her golden eyes with a sigh. "You don't know who I am, do you?" she asked. "You don't realize who my father is."

"Who?" Bulma asked, picking at the grass. "Zorn?"

"No," Karo snorted. "The King."

* * *

Nappa opened the door, stepping back as a gangly figure with a mop of black hair shot past. "Hey," he said, snatching onto the figure with one beefy hand, pulling her round to face him. "You grew tall, girl."

Leeka stared back at her father, blinking as she eyed the top of his head. "Your hair's gone," she said flatly. "You look old."

Nappa grunted, crossing his arms. "I lived for twenty five years more, that's why," he replied. "Hair's annoying anyway."

"Psshh, yeah right," the teenager replied with a grin, "I'm sure you lost your hair on purpose."

"Nappa," came another voice, and he turned to see the woman who had spawned his disrespectful daughter standing in the doorframe.

"Zuuki," he replied with a nod. "Been a long time."

"Hnn," replied the woman. "She's been messing 'round with a middle class boy, which is why I've escorted her here in perso…"

"Mother!" Leeka interrupted, setting the full force of a Saiyan glare on the smaller female. The sixteen year old was glad to have some of her father's genes as she drew herself up to full height, so that she could look down on her mother. "I haven't been messing around with anyone!"

"Of course not," Zuuki replied, "I'm sure your reddened lips come from a punch to the mouth, rather than hours of sharing saliva, hmm? Remember who you're talking to, girl. At your age, Nappa and I were already dealing with the smelly, snot nosed pile of fat that eventually grew to be you. We're no fools… at least not now. I'll be damned if I let my daughter throw away her chance to secure a good match. Watch her, Nappa. She's grown stronger, and attractive enough. If she behaves like she should, she could attract a good nobleman, but it'll be wasted if she gives it away to some lowly boy for free."

"Sixteen is still a little young," he replied, frowning at the idea of his girl lying with any man. Zuuki had been fifteen when he had first taken her, but she had seemed far more mature than her daughter. "Who's the middle class bastard; I'll go kill him now."

"No need, I scared him off fine." Zuuki replied. "She's still a virgin, which is good. She won't be for long though, Nappa, either way, so I think it's best if we find her a suitable male before her hormones take hold."

"I can find a man myself!"

"No, I don't think you can. You want someone who will keep you well when you're pregnant and nursing, and who will pass on strong genes to your children. It doesn't have to be permanent, remember, but finding a decent initial male is important."

"You found one fine…"

"My father would have killed Nappa, had Nappa not had the luck to be drafted into one of the top elite squads that year. It was not an ideal pairing, although I do say the results were not as bad as anticipated. It's lucky we both come from strong bloodlines." Nappa added a grunt to this, eyeing up the young female beside him, who was fuzzed up with anger.

"You turned out fine, brat. But if some middle class male…" he shook his head with a snarl. "You'd have a disgraceful child."

"If you were smarter," Zuuki spoke, "I'd simply trust you not to get pregnant, and advise you to join the elite forces like most women do until they're ready to bear children. But you're an idiot; the fiasco with the weakling boy proved that. So it's best if you have your children now- _elite_ children, to a _nobleman_," she stressed, "and fight later." Without another word, she left, closing the door behind her.

Nappa sighed, watching his daughter scream and stomp around the house.

Her fits were almost as bad as Bulma's.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Bulma said, turning her head to look at Karo. They both lay on the grass, enjoying the last of the afternoon sun. "King Vegeta is your father, but your mother was an alien woman…"

"A whore to royalty, just like you," Karo replied, giving Bulma an ironic smile. When Bulma frowned, Karo lifted her head, leaning on her elbow to look at the Earthling directly. "Do you hate it here?" she asked.

"No," Bulma replied. "No… it's quite a beautiful planet, when you get used to the gravity. I've made a few friends, and the palace is amazing… but I miss my home, all the time. And I hate being called a whore, that's not what I am."

"I know," the girl replied, "before the planet was destroyed, my father had a lot of different alien women. Most of them had been important on their home planets… some were princesses, the youngest daughters of politicians and Kings, you know. I guess their fathers loved the idea of a political alliance with the Saiyans more than their own children."

"That's terrible."

Karo shrugged, leaning back down with a sigh. "I don't know what my father is going to do with me," she said quietly, staring up at the clouds.

"He wouldn't send you off like that," Bulma said loudly, lifting her head with a frown.

"I don't know what he would do. Maybe he'll give me to a Saiyan noble, but…"

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Bulma asked suddenly, eyeing the girl's waistline.

"Why would you think that?" Karo asked, her eyes widening in shock. "There aren't rumours going around are there? Because they can't be true!"

"No, no," Bulma replied, waving her arms about, "I just saw you that day in the library… the book you were reading was on Saiyan reproduction."

"Oh. That."

"It's a bit of a strange book to read," Bulma supplied, a grin flitting across her features, "I read a bit myself, actually. Takes me back to the days when I had to sit through sex ed at school."

"What?" Karo asked in confusion, her black eyebrows drawing down once more. She sighed, twirling her straight black hair around her fingers. "I used to talk to the alien women here; they didn't look at me like I was different… now you're the only one."

"You can talk to me."

Karo pursed her lips, her golden eyes looking Bulma over, assessing her. "I hear you're a scientist," she said, one eyebrow rising- much like her brother's did, Bulma noticed- as she expected an answer in return.

"I'm working with Lady Kaiware," Bulma replied, "developing equipment for training… and war. Do you know Lady Kaiware?"

"She hates me," the girl replied. "I suppose it's because when she looks at me, she's reminded of the fact that she can't have my father to herself- she's always sharing with someone else. Saiyan women…" she trailed off with a sigh, biting her lip as she thought. "I don't know whether to include myself in this or not, since I'm only half, and I don't really think like them… but Saiyan women, they're always jealous. Always spiteful. Always competing."

"I like Kaiware, she's my friend," Bulma replied quickly. Karo snorted, shaking her head.

"She wouldn't be, if you were with the King, rather than the Prince."

"Lucky I'm not with the King, then," Bulma said, feeling very grateful that Vegeta had, in fact, prevented that from happening. She didn't know what would happen between her and the Prince- her own feelings were becoming very confused as of late- but she knew, at least, that he would never force himself on her.

"Why do you wear different clothes to everyone else?" Bulma asked, hoping to move to a safer topic. "I like your dress."

"Thanks," Karo smiled. "I can't fight," she explained. "I'm really weak; it's something to do with what I am. I don't think a hybrid like me is supposed to exist; apparently my father never realized my mother could get pregnant to him, and then it was too late."

"But they do abortions here; I've heard women talk about it. I'm glad they didn't do that to you, though."

"They couldn't operate on my mother," Karo replied. "I don't understand all of it- I've only heard bits and pieces from people- but I think she would have died, had they tried that. Something to do with what she was… and my father wanted her to live. He liked her."

"But she's dead now?"

"Yeah. Died giving birth to me. I've heard people say the only reason why the King let me live is because otherwise my mother died in vain."

"I'm sorry," Bulma whispered, patting the girl lightly on the shoulder. Both looking back up at the sky, they fell into silence.

"Were they happy?" Bulma asked eventually. "Were the alien women who… who stayed with your father, were they happy?"

"They missed their homes," Karo replied quietly, "but they seemed happy, or at least content with their lives."

"They weren't lonely?"

"No. They had each other, and me… they were like my mothers, since mine was gone. And they had my father. When a new one comes along, there's always a time when everyone's adjusting, and the new woman feels alone, and scared. But they told me that…" she blushed, covering her face so that her voice was muffled, making Bulma grin. Karo may have been intelligent and knowledgeable, but she was still a teenager. "They-said-he-was-a-good-lover," she blurted out, causing Bulma to laugh.

"They told you that? But you're his daughter!"

"I know!" she replied, removing her hands from her cheeks. "It's so gross!" The girl shook her head, the fur on her tail puffing out with disgust. "Ugh… but they said he made them happy, and made them feel special. They only told me because I asked them if they hated it here, just like I asked you."

"Do you think they loved him?"

Karo looked at her, the gold eyes just as piercing as the dark ones of her male relatives. "Yes," she replied "I think they did. But then I wonder if they had any choice in the matter, being captives here. Perhaps loving him seemed better than hating, and so they hid themselves from the truth?"

* * *

Bulma walked back through the Palace corridors, her eyes traveling over the oozaru carvings as she navigated her way back to Vegeta's wing.

It seemed there were still areas of the Palace she had not yet explored, and she passes numerous hallways that sparked her curiosity, although she chose, for today, to stay on the path she new well. This one would take her through the glass room again; it would be nice, in the early evening, to watch the stars come out, before heading back.

As she walked, she pondered all that Karo had told her. Of course, she should have realized earlier that she was only half Saiyan, the limp hair, gold eyes, and pale, pale skin was a dead give away.

_Damn_, Bulma thought, as she passed a wall filled with tapestries of nude women of numerous races, _I still didn't ask about that book_. The girl had said she wasn't pregnant, so perhaps she was simply curious. Being only fifteen, perhaps the girl didn't know anything about her body… or perhaps she was concerned about her development, being only half Saiyan.

Even now, after weeks of being on the planet, she still wasn't used to the way Saiyans acted towards each other. They had ideas of loyalty, but they didn't necessarily run along the lines of blood relations. It was why, Bulma supposed, Karo admitted that she had only spoken to her brother once in her life, and why Bardock, when briefly mentioning his AWOL cousin Turles, acted as if the guy was better off dead.

Entering into the glass room, Bulma froze, doing a double take as she saw the figure standing by the window, observing the sky.

The genes of the Saiyan royalty, if anything, were very strong. For when Bulma first saw the figure, she almost called out, thinking it was the man she knew. Instead, she took a second look, noting the taller stature, broader shoulders, and lighter hair of the King.

He shifted, his head turning subtly, and she knew he had noticed her presence. Still deciding whether to back away or cross the room on her intended path, she saw another movement, and stood frozen.

Lady Kaiware, originally shielded from Bulma's view by the large body of the King, snaked her arms around the man's neck, pulling his head down into a passionate kiss. She kept kissing him, her feet leaving the ground as she worked on his neck, her fingers diving deep into the King's hair.

Bulma backed away slowly, deciding that she would explore some of the other corridors after all. As she wove her way through the maze of passages, the sounds and images of the day played in her head, lapping over each other like waves on the shore.

"_Saiyan women,"_ Karo had said, _"they're always jealous. Always spiteful. Always competing."_

Kaiware may have been kissing her King, but all the while her eyes had been trained on Bulma, sending a direct warning. _He's mine_, they seemed to say, _and if you touch him, I will kill you._

A chill ran down Bulma's spine as she thought of the small woman, her beauty accentuated by her deadly, feline grace.

"_I like Kaiware, she's my friend."_

"_She wouldn't be, if you were with the King…"_

* * *

Bulma lay back on the bed, waiting for Vegeta to emerge from his bathroom. After getting the gravity machine up and running, he had spent the past six days practically living in the training room, and Bulma had once again been deprived of company in the spacious quarters of the Prince.

_Not like he's that talkative to begin with_, she thought with a sigh. Still, his brooding silence was one of the things she found attractive; it was fun to watch him sometimes, and try to figure out just what was going through his head.

Other times, though, like the night she had held him, it seemed as if his whole body emanated the feelings of a tormented soul. It made her insides ache to see him like that.

"Woman," he greeted her quietly as he stepped out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel hanging low on his hips.

"Hi," she replied with a small smile. "Thought I'd check up on you. You haven't been around lately."

He snorted, shaking his head as he moved to his wardrobe and selected white linen pants to wear. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he dropped the towel, giving the woman on his bed full view of his behind as he pulled the clothes on. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he turned to find that her cheeks had become significantly redder.

"I've been here," he told her, lifting her body slightly in order to shift her over to the other side of the massive bed, "you're just so lazy you waste all your time sleeping."

"That is not true," she replied with a frown as he lay down, moving his arms behind him so that his head sat in his hands, "I've been working really hard. We've got new capsules coming soon, for food storage, and I'm working on some better designs for scouters."

"Hmmm."

"And," she added, rolling on her side so that she could give him a stern glare, "you keep breaking my bots."

"I wouldn't if they weren't so weak," he replied, matching her stare.

"They're as strong as they can possibly be, Vegeta. Metal can only be made so many ways. You should exercise some restraint." She eyed a fresh scratch on his neck, her fingers softly tracing over the reddened mark. "You should take better care of yourself too," she added quietly.

Vegeta moved instinctually, and before he had time to think he had the woman's fingers held lightly between his teeth. Both froze for a moment, their eyes holding each other prisoner, before a small smile made its way onto Bulma's lips. "I read about that," she told him, as he released her fingers. "Saiyan men like to nip, like little puppy dogs."

He frowned, a soft growl rising in his throat. "Do not compare me to a dog, woman," he told her, his lips threatening to curl upwards as he remembered something. "And just what were you doing with a book on Saiyan reproduction, anyway?" he asked, smirking as surprise flashed across her face.

"How did you…"

"I saw it, the day you fell asleep on the couch," he replied, his tail curling slowly through the air beside him.

Bulma watched, mesmerised by the slow movement of the furry appendage, the heat returning to her face as she remembered another fact from the book. "Is it true?" she asked quietly, her eyes still watching his tail.

"What?"

"That your tail… that it's… um, ahh…"

"An erogenous zone?" he supplied.

"Mmm," she mumbled, "um, is it?"

"In certain moods, yes," he answered quietly. "It's sensitive, that's why it feels good. But say, you get tasered… Nappa's still upset, by the way," he added with a chuckle.

She smiled, her eyes following his tail as it curved in a wide arc towards her. Tentatively she reached out, her fingertips brushing the soft fur. She watched his face as he lay with eyes closed; it was the most relaxed she had ever seen him.

Growing more courageous, she swept her hand up the tail, revelling in the feel of the working muscle that lay under the soft fur. She scratched the tip like one would scratch a cat's neck, and was rewarded with a soft growl of pleasure from its owner. Her eyes travelled down his broad chest and muscled abdomen, finally lingering on the crotch of his pants.

With widened eyes, she concluded that the tail really did work _that _way.

She looked back to his face to see his eyes open once more, watching her curiously. Feeling very much like an inexperienced teenager, she turned her face away, choosing to watch her hands move slowly through the fur, rather than hold his gaze.

"I never knew this," she whispered, "I always just thought they were a weakness, when you squeeze them."

"No," he replied huskily, "I don't have that weakness, anyway."

Continuing her ministrations, she grinned as his tail snaked around her arm, moving close enough so that the soft fur brushed her cheek. "I thought the fur would be coarser than this," she giggled, as it ticked her collarbone. Pulling it away from her gently, she ran her hands down it once more, the fur ruffling up as her hands moved against the grain.

Hearing him gasp as her nails scratched the skin beneath lightly, she sighed. The warmth of desire was beginning to build within her, and she placed one palm flat on his chest, the olive skin burning with heat under her touch.

She jumped as his body suddenly emitted a great rumbling noise from deep within, making her heart beat faster with fright. After a moment given to catch her breath, she looked towards his face- his cheeks reddened with embarrassment- and broke into a fit of laughter.

"Was… was that your stomach?" she asked as the laughs began to die down, her own stomach cramping with the effort. Looking back at his exasperated face, she collapsed into giggles once more, rolling away with a snort to bury herself in the pillows. Taking in deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down, the cramps from laughing easing slowly out of her body as she relaxed. Lifting her head once more, she shook her hair out of her vision, to find that she was now in an empty room.

"Vegeta?"

"Just piss off, woman," he snapped the muscles on his back rippling as he reached to pull more food down from the cupboard. "Leave me in peace, for once."

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, straining to keep her face straight. "You'd think I'd be used to the rumbly tummies of Saiyans by now, but obviously I'm not… and the timing…" she grinned, turning away in order to calm the urge to laugh again. "Ahem. The timing was hilarious; I won't lie to you."

She bit her lip as he glared at her, one eyebrow twitching in anger. "Leave, woman," he growled, his deep voice echoing in the kitchen.

"It's a good way to seduce women," she continued, "make them laugh until they can no longer stand, and have to rely on you to carry them. Then all you have to do is carry them to your… Hey!" she shouted, kicking as he threw her over his shoulder, moving swiftly to dump her out on the living room floor. "That hurt!" she yelled, rubbing her sore behind.

Pushing herself back onto her feet, she eyed the storage closet in the hall, an idea forming in her head. With a smile she pulled a pile of thick blankets from the cupboard, straining her neck to see over the top as she carried them. Cautiously, she made her way back into the kitchen, shuffling past Vegeta and through towards the glass doors at the end of the room.

"What the hell are you doing now, woman?" Vegeta snarled over the sound of the giant cooker, which was quickly heating a pre-made meal.

"I was thinking it's a nice night," she replied, pushing the doors open with a shove. Creaking, they came free, and a rush of refreshingly cool air, mingled with the smells of the evening, came rushing in.

The kitchen opened out onto pale tiles, each engraved lightly with designs of oozaru, so that they gave a pleasant feel under bare feet. Hedged on either side by climbing vines, the paved area gave privacy from the view of the King's quarters, situated directly above, but allowed an open view of much of the sky. Bulma stooped over as she laid out the largest of the blankets, leaving another two sitting in a pile.

"I'm hungry too. Eat out here with me," she said quietly, leaning on the door frame, her hair falling softly around her face. Glancing up at one of the higher cabinets, she moved to pick up a stool that stood beside the end of the large island bench.

"Woman, you'll fall," Vegeta said, watching as she balanced precariously above the stool. "What does the foolish creature want now, hmm?"

"Wine," she mumbled in reply, peering up at the bottles that lay in their racks. "Good wine. Is this all right?" she asked, lifting out one square-shaped bottle. The chair shook and she shrieked, anticipating a painful fall.

"This is better," rasped a voice in her ear, and she sighed as she realized Vegeta was behind her, his arm brushing past to select something from the colourful array of bottles. Silently, she allowed him to lift her down, watching him as he placed the stool back in its original place.

"You'd best find some glasses, then, woman," he said quietly, removing his steaming food from the cooker. "Don't tell me humans are so crude they drink straight from the bottle."

"Not me," she replied, bending to fetch the glasses. "Now let's eat. I'm starving."

* * *

"Just how strong is that stuff anyway?" Bulma asked with a small giggle, lifting her hand lightly to her head, her movements slow as if she were suspended in water. "I feel like I'm going to float away."

"Hmmm?" Vegeta mumbled, stifling a belch as he sat up, the leaves of the vines dragging through his hair. "I'm not sure," he replied, his lips twitching as he watched the woman's amusing attempts to sit up. With a sigh she gave up, choosing instead to pull the spare blanket haphazardly across her sprawled limbs.

He watched as she turned her head towards him, her hair sparkling lightly in the moonlight. With a short chuckle, he realized that if he squinted, she looked like one of the water nymphs of legend, the dark blanket draped around her legs serving sufficiently as a tail.

"You know, I've always wanted to float," she said quietly, her full, pink lips stretching out into a grin. "I've flown planes for almost two decades now, but I'd give anything to be able to fly naturally, with the wind in my hair. You're lucky you can."

"It's not luck," he told her, "its skill. All Saiyans can fly, because we are the greatest race in the entire universe. We do it naturally as children. _I_ first flew when I was two."

"Two!" she giggled. "Were you even potty trained?"

"I was an advanced child," he replied, "but I do remember thinking it would be funny to piss on my father's cape, just to see what he would do."

She laughed, rolling onto her stomach. "What happened?"

"Hm? Oh, he lectured me in the throne room, in front of everyone. Made me drop my pants so he could smack me on the ass. 'Humiliation is the greatest punishment,' he told me. That day is the very first memory I have, actually."

"Ouch. My first memory is getting a toy robot. I killed it."

"You killed it?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Well, I was three, and I already knew I wanted to be a scientist like my dad. So I took it apart. I wasn't that good at putting it back together again, though."

"So you've always been an idiot," he commented dryly. Laughing at her expression, he dodged a plate that whirled past his head, the piece of china smashing to the ground behind him. "Destroying royal property is treason," he told her, leaning forward. "I should punish you."

"Whatever," she replied nonchalantly, turning until she lay with her back to him. "I'm going to look at the stars now."

He leaned back against the terrace of vines, watching the woman's still form, the line from her shoulder sloping down to her small waist, and then back up into the full curve of her hips. With the blanket now down around her knees, he was given the opportunity to stare at the sliver of skin showing between the low pants she called 'jeans', and the tight-fitting shirt she wore. _No tail_, he mused, _but smooth skin_. The urge to touch it was maddening.

The thought of tails brought him back to the happenings in his bedroom, and his own tail twitched slowly. "Woman?" he whispered to her.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you reading that reproductive book?"

"Mmm," she mumbled in reply, her shoulder rising slowly with each breath. Vegeta crawled forward, peering over at her sleeping face.

A little less steady than usual, he picked her up and carried her inside.


	19. When Duty Calls

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

Chapter Nineteen: When Duty Calls

"Wow, I can't believe Bulma's dad did all of this in such a small amount of time!" Krillin exclaimed, running his hands over the gravity machine located in the middle of the room. "How high can this go?"

"He said one hundred times Earth's gravity," Goku replied, his voice echoing around the ship as he continued his stretches. "But I think we should just start with ten times, it's what King Kai's planet was." He grinned at the smaller man, his eyes lighting up as they always did when he fought. "You've got a lotta catching up to do!"

"Hey!" Krillin replied, pretending to be offended. "You know, I wasn't that far behind you when we were kids, Goku. I recon I could still keep up."

"I'm glad you're coming with me on this trip," Goku suddenly said, a frown flitting across his features.

"No problem, man," Krillin replied. "You didn't think I'd let you go alone? Besides, I don't wanna miss out on the action. Now, let's get training already. We've only got a month to be ready!"

"Yeah!" Goku replied, brightening with the prospect of good, hard training. "Let's go!"

* * *

Tugging at the cloth around her feet, Bulma struggled until she was once more curled up in a cocoon of blankets, shivering as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the morning. She was always a messy sleeper; it was unusual for her to wake in the morning without finding the sheets had somehow been kicked off in the night. The problem had temporarily abated as her body had slowly adjusted to Vegetasei's gravity, but now it came back in full force, and she woke every morning to find her nipples standing on end from the cold.

She groaned again, ducking her head further under the covers as she tried to remember her dreams. Unable to recall them with any sense of clarity, she shivered again- this time more in fear. Regardless of the fact that she could not remember it properly, her dream had nonetheless left a disturbing aftertaste in the morning.

That wasn't the only aftertaste hanging around, Bulma realized, as she ran her tongue over her teeth. They felt fuzzy and disgusting, evidently suffering from the night before. _I can't remember getting into bed… Vegeta must have carried me._

Yanking the pillows down under her neck, she settled into a more comfortable position, noting that she still wore yesterday's jeans under the blankets. She winced, remembering suddenly the odd places her conversation had gone with Vegeta while they were under the influence of drink.

"_You always wear such strange clothes, woman."_

"_I do? You're the one who walks around in lycra. Don't you Saiyans have any sense of modesty?" _she had laughed,_ "I mean, it doesn't really leave much to the imagination."_

"_Oh, so you look there, do you?" _he had asked, his eyes glinting playfully.

"_Maybe."_

"_Maybe… maybe," _he had murmured, the sound of his low voice caressing her ears._ "Your clothes, Bulma_," he had added, pronouncing her name in such a way that made her hold her breath,_ "do not leave much to the imagination, either. Women on this planet usually try to minimize the size of their chests- it gets in the way of fighting. I can't help but notice that you seem to wear garments specifically designed to enhance your… features."_

"_My features…" _she had giggled._ "Enhancing my features!"_ She had laughed some more, finally relaxing enough to talk properly. _"Well, for starters,"_ she had explained, _"I happen to have noticed that Saiyan women don't come with large busts to begin with… so no wonder you've noticed… you're a man, after all, I can't blame you."_

"_So you have no problem with me staring at your tits. Good to know."_

She had glared at him then, throwing a scrap off her plate at his head. He had deftly caught the food in his mouth, smirking as he chewed it down slowly. _"Go on,"_ he had urged.

"_It's just fashion,"_ she had sighed. _"On my planet this is how women dress. And I have to wear a decent bra; something needs to hold up my boobs, especially in this gravity!"_

"_Surely they can hold themselves up?"_ he had questioned, eyeing the subjects intensely_. "Perhaps a demonstration would be in order? Of what they look like, without this… bra… contraption of yours?"_

Face reddened with equal amounts of wine, nervousness and giddy embarrassment, she had deftly unhooked her bra, while keeping her tank top on. Slowly, she had slid the straps off her shoulders, maneuvering her arms out of the underwear without removing her outer layer of clothing. Vegeta's eyes had followed the movements, the dark pools drowning in lustful thoughts.

"_Here,"_ she had told him, tossing the bra over her shoulder, _"this is what I look like, all natural."_

His eyes had lingered on her body for a good moment longer, before traveling up to meet hers. The tension, so thick in the air, had eventually been broken when she looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

Shaking her head, Bulma now vowed to find Vegeta in order to talk seriously about just where their dangerous behavior was heading…

… _after_ she slept in a little more.

* * *

"What is it? I don't have time to 'chat'; I have serious training to do."

King Vegeta shot his son an exasperated look, his mouth pursing slightly. "There's more to being royal than just being strong, boy," he told him. "You have duties as a Prince that you need to fulfill, now that you are of age."

"Fighting Frieza is my main priority. I'm not going to bullshit around in meetings all day," Vegeta replied, feeling even more irritable than usual. The woman had been a tease the entire night before, and she was confusing the hell out of him. Thinking back on it, there had been at least half a dozen times when she could have done more, and yet all they had managed was a bit of tail petting. _Damn it,_ he cursed to himself, _she's such a strange creature! Females are bad enough to interpret, but Human female behavior… such an enigma!_

"Are you even listening to me, boy?" his father snarled, banging one fist down on his office table, shaking the contents of the ancient wooden structure. "Damn it, Vegeta! You will have to learn to be a prince someday!"

"I know how to be a prince!" he yelled back, his tail lashing out behind him. "Fool! I _am_ the Prince of Saiyans!"

"As I was once!" the King bellowed back. "And I did a hell of a better job than you! I actually did what was required of me, when all you do is spend all day locked up in that pathetic Earthling room!"

"What was required? What was _required_?" Vegeta spat back, his lips pulling back angrily. "Tell me, father, were you ever required to spend most of your fucking life kissing a lizard's arse? Do you know how many times I had to bow to that bastard, while he sat in his throne calling me a filthy _monkey_? He humiliated our people; he treats us as if we are some sort of joke! I am a Saiyan! He has wounded my pride, and I shall have my revenge! I do not care for anything but that!"

Vegeta straightened, noticing that he had once again blown his father's scouter, which had been sitting inconspicuously on the edge of the desk. He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to maintain his anger. The King's guards were currently stationed outside the door, and would no doubt have heard that latest dispute… the last thing he needed was more rumours of him going around; the tongues of nobles were already wagging behind his back. Wrapping his tail once more around his waist, he set his jaw, lowering his voice to more appropriate levels. "This is serious," he pressed. "I know you've dealt with the Cold Empire your entire life, Father, but Frieza is not like the others. You are inexperienced in dealing with him- he blew up our planet, if you've forgotten."

"I have not forgotten, boy," the King replied through clenched teeth.

"I still don't think you realize who you're dealing with. You know what he looks like? Well, that's not even his true form. He has a transformed state. They say his power is so great in that second form, it makes it too hard to control, which is why he stays in the first."

"Impossible."

"No. Not impossible. And it is not impossible for me to become a Super Saiyan, which is why I must train. If I am not ready when Frieza comes, you can expect this entire planet to disappear again."

The King sighed in annoyance, scratching his beard. "The Eastern nobles require a visit from the Crown Prince every year, when the Prince is of age. Three days, two nights… that's all they require of us in order to keep them happy. The people like to think the royalty here in the capital are not forgetting about them, this arrangement has worked for centuries. It's a pain, but it has to be done. Your training machine can be reduced down to one of those capsules, can it not? Good," he continued, noting the small inclination of Vegeta's head, "take it with you then. Go today, and get the visit over with. It's either that or they all descend here on us."

Vegeta conceded reluctantly, snarling under his breath as he turned for the door.

"Vegeta," his father spoke, causing him to turn back once more. "You have represented your people well, in all those years away. And you shall have your revenge; I am sure of it. I look forward to the day, boy. I always knew you'd be a Super Saiyan."

* * *

"Celipa, can you tell me where Prince Vegeta is? The entire gravity room is gone, so I guess he capsulised it, and I haven't seen him in any of his usual hang-outs."

Celipa quirked an eyebrow at the short female, trying to translate just exactly what the alien meant by the Prince being in 'hang-outs'. Shaking off the mental image of the Prince hanging from a tree by his tail, she crossed her arms, presenting the usual nonchalant image of a Saiyan with better things to do than waste time talking to aliens.

"The Prince," she drawled coldly, "has gone to the Eastern province. There was urgent business he had to attend to there. He is not expected to return until the day after tomorrow."

"What?" the blue whore screeched, her voice echoing in the corridor loud enough to make all nobles within the next two passageways stop in surprise. "He's _gone_? For two days?"

"You know, I'm standing right here," Celipa replied, "there's no need for you to yell."

Comically, all the alien female did was hold in her breath, shaking until her face reddened and cheeks ballooned out like a small rodent. With a hiss she exhaled, lips jutting forward in an angry pout, before she turned and stormed away.

"The nerve!" Celipa heard the Earthling say, "The nerve of that man, to act like _that_, and then just leave without telling me! Ugh! Saiyans!"

"_Aliens_," a fellow noble sighed, shaking his head. "so overdramatic about everything."

* * *

Moving out of the labs and across the large, flat stones that led to the entrance of the main body of the palace, Bulma looked to the sky, trying to gauge how long it would be until sunset.

_A few more hours_, she guessed. _Geez, I really need to get around to making me a watch that runs on Vegetasei time; maybe I should do that tonight._

The palace was filled with ancient clocks, their pale faces peering down at people at every corner, but the Saiyans themselves didn't wear any time-keeping devices, save for their scouters. Finding the added weight uncomfortable, Bulma flatly refused to wear a scouter, and so was often left wondering what the real time was.

Today, she had been working with Kaiware on a new idea, to somehow capsulise scouters down to something smaller when they were not needed. The idea of using an earring as a holding device was the current favourite- even Saiyan women liked their jewellery, it seemed- but Bulma doubted any Saiyan man would be willing to pierce their ears for the sake of a new device. No, they would need to come up with something else.

At first, Bulma had been cautious to return to the labs, after accidentally witnessing a small, private moment between the King and Lady Kaiware. She had been relieved, however, when Kaiware had merely greeted her this morning in the same, flat tone she always used, the woman's body language displaying no sense of aggression towards her.

Watching the small Saiyan working meticulously on storage devices, Bulma couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. Saiyans, from what she had observed, shied away from any discussion on feelings, but it didn't mean they didn't have any at all. And the way that Kaiware looked at the King, in the small, odd glances that Bulma had seen while in the company of the Saiyan ministers, seemed to show that deep down, the Lady cared greatly for the older man.

Most surprising, to Bulma, was in fact just _how_ old he was. Bulma had assumed he was only in his early thirties, since the Prince had only been five at the time that Vegetasei was destroyed. The King, in fact, was almost forty-nine. Nappa had told her before that Saiyans remained youthful until at least their nineties, but she hadn't given much thought to it before.

Mentioning age to Vegeta, the Prince had been quick to explain the details of Saiyan aging in his talkative, alcohol-induced mood that afflicted him the night before.

It seemed that once a Saiyan hit thirty, they hardly aged at all. Not only that- as she had confirmed from the Saiyan reproduction book this morning- Saiyan women could carry children until ninety years of age. Saiyan men, on the other hand, could father children until they died of old age.

The strangest aspect of all was the way in which age finally caught up with Saiyans. After ninety years of youth, one would begin to notice wrinkles. Within five years the hair would begin to fall out- something that plagued a few unfortunate younger males too. By one hundred, Saiyan men and women alike would be bald, save for their eyebrows. By this point, their muscles would have started degenerating too, their bones becoming brittle, so that they snapped easily. Losing the will to fight, these elderly Saiyans were more at risk from falling from great heights, as did sometimes happen. Apparently, they would fly too high, remembering the young days, pass out from the lack of oxygen-something their bodies could not deal with anymore- and then fall to their deaths.

According to Vegeta, those were the lucky ones.

The rest continued to fall from glory, their bodies wasting away, sight blurring into darkness, ears no longer picking up sounds. Appetites diminishing, the last few years of a Saiyan's life were spent as nothing but skin and bones, alone in a hospital specially reserved for them.

Bulma had asked, in a society built on strength, why the younger generations would bother to let the elderly live. _"Laws,"_ was Vegeta's reply- social rules that had been established so long ago that no one could remember the reason why. All they knew was that anyone that lived past ninety-five was a relic, and something to be treated with respect, even when the people in question could no longer recognize the gesture.

"_I hope I die before then,"_ Vegeta had admitted, gazing up at the stars. _"I'm sure I will… Kings always die young, for some reason or another."_

"_Don't say that,"_ Bulma had whispered to him. _"Live a full life."_

He had looked at her then, a small, sad smile of irony present on his face. _"I've already lived a life full of shit, Bulma. Honestly, I don't know how another sixty years of it is going to fit in here."_

"_And here you were, wanting to live forever."_

"_All I want is Frieza dead."_

Heading back to her room, she weaved her way through the corridors, before her attention was caught by a small, snuffling noise coming from behind one of the red draperies that were interspersed randomly throughout the palace.

Not long after her arrival on Vegetasei, Nappa had grinned wickedly when she had asked why the long, wide curtains, the colour of blood, hung from ceiling to floor in every third or fourth hallway. His large hand had swiftly pulled back one of the curtains to reveal a small alcove inside, not much larger than a usual closet.

Bulma remembered the blush that had risen on her cheeks as Nappa had explained its purpose. It seemed the Saiyans of old had planned for all needs when constructing the palace, including the sudden urge of lust that could afflict one's person. The alcoves, though small, were large enough even for Saiyans to have a quickie.

Warmth tinting her cheeks once again, Bulma leaned closer towards the thick curtain. The snuffling sound quieted a bit, although the odd noise still reached her ears. She paused, unsure of what to do. It didn't sound like people having sex, but perhaps all Saiyans made that noise when they went at it?

Cheeks blazing even more, she clamped a hand tightly over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud. Images- more than she wanted to think about- of her Saiyan friends rushed into her head, as she imagined Nappa in the throes of passion, snuffling like an oversized pig.

Sick of her indecision, she at last grabbed firmly at the curtain, thrusting the soft fabric inside. Much to her relief, it was not two adults, nor one lone teenage boy in the midst of satisfying himself, but a small child, no older than the age of two. Tracks of tears stained his round cheeks, and his pouting lips were flushed red. His tail, curled around knees that were pulled up against his chest, shook with fright, the fur fluffed up with emotion.

"Sweetheart," Bulma cooed, looking into the boy's dark, wide eyes, "what's wrong?"

* * *

Vegeta repressed the urge to sigh again as he strode along the gardens of the Eastern Palace, a gaggle of star-struck nobles trailing behind him, all vying for attention.

"My Dear Prince," spoke one of the fatter men, his round legs moving quickly to keep up with Vegeta's pace, "how do you find the Eastern District so far? Is it to your liking, Your Highness?"

"No."

The pudgy nobleman blanched at this, his olive skin whitening considerably. "N… no?" he stammered, shock evident on his slack face. "Is… is there something I could do to rectify that… Sire," he continued, sweat breaking out on his brow as the sharp, black eyes of the Prince swiveled to fixate on him. "Perhaps… we should take our lunch now? Or… or… the baths! The Eastern District is known for our hot baths… very good for the skin, Sire. We can provide you with whores too, if you would like. Your father, our Great King, always liked…"

"What I would like…" the Prince announced loudly, turning so that he faced all nobles. He paused for effect, watching his companions through narrowed eyes.

Quickly stopping so as not to bang into one another, the nobles peered down at the smaller Prince, each trying desperately to mask their fear of him. The late Finance Minister had come from this region, and they had all heard the stories of his death.

The Prince had been swift to establish his dominance over the ministers, although he did not appear at the ministerial meetings frequently, all nobles knew that when he did, his influence was significant. Once a spoilt child who had famously destroyed the southern wing of the Eastern Palace, the nobles here now recognized him as a major threat, should they get on his bad side. For the Prince was not only exceptionally strong- stronger that any other Saiyan who had lived in over a millennium- he was also highly intelligent, with a quick wit and a particular knack for getting what he wanted.

Worst of all, those who had seen the Prince spoke of his uncanny ability to look down at you, to make one feel as if they were a tiny rodent in the presence of a giant, when in reality the man stood several feet below the height of many. It was those eyes, those damned eyes that could strip you down until only your weak, fragile soul was left. He was a man to be truly feared.

_Oh gods, he's doing it_, thought one noble, as the Prince's gaze fell on him. _Shit, shit, shit… _

Their future king had been brought up in an altogether different environment, away from their society, their culture- away from them. His own favourite was an alien female, her influence on the court slowly spreading to Lady Kaiware, the Prince's mother, too. Should the alien bitch sink her claws into any more Saiyans, it could spell trouble for the nobility, for the old ways that they had worked to preserve. Already the Prince had introduced odd technology, as well as new ideas for restructuring the armies.

No one would deny that he was a Saiyan, for he very much was, but there was always that air about him that said differently, that indicated the Prince did not fit quite right into the lifestyle of the Saiyan nobility. He moved differently, his eyes always watching others, and he spoke odd languages, always hissing in foreign tongues when he was angry.

"What I would like," Prince Vegeta continued sternly, causing a fresh jump from the nervous nobles, "is for all of you to leave me the fuck alone. I don't need an escorting party of twenty following me around everywhere. Go find something else to do with your useless lives; I'm already going to see you all at dinner tonight, so save me the headache and piss off for now."

Bowing profusely in silence, tails wrapped taught around their waists to stop the telltale trembling, the nobles backed away from the Prince, already wishing that the royal visit was over.

* * *

Hoisting the little Saiyan boy further up on her hip, Bulma continued towards the throne room. Unable to think of a better way to find the child's parents, she figured that if the King of Saiyans himself could not help, no one could.

She bit back a curse as the boy aimed a strong kick in her side, his hand clutching tightly at her hair and breasts respectively. "Stop squirming," she told him with a frown, "I can't carry you like that. Oww! No! That hurts!"

The boy, refusing do speak or move on his own volition, had left her with no option but to carry him until she located whoever it was that should be minding him. Saiyan children, she realized within thirty seconds of picking him up, were more active than the average human child.

_I'm going to be bald by the time I get to the throne room if he keeps this up!_

"Stop it!" she commanded once more, slapping his leg quickly. That was a mistake; in quick retaliation he slapped back, leaving her lip stinging, and the taste of blood in her mouth. "Should I just leave you here?" she yelled, dumping him on the floor. "You might get eaten by a monster if I leave you here alone!"

That seemed to do the trick. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes, his small tail shaking once more. "Come here," she sighed softly, cradling the small body in her arms, the boy's potential strength shown in the hard muscle she could feel beneath the layers of fat.

With a sigh, and a newfound appreciation for all parents, she made her way silently into the throne room.

* * *

King Vegeta turned his head slightly at the noise of a door opening somewhere behind his throne. His guards, also picking up on the noise, moved swiftly, each pressing a hand to their scouters as quiet whispers were exchanged.

"It is the Prince's whore," Zorn told him, leaning into his ear. "She brings a child with her. She requests to know who the child's parents might be."

Upon hearing this odd information, the King's eyebrows shot up, his eyes swiveling to question Zorn. No, his advisor was not fooling around; the Earth woman really was present, with a child from god-knows-where. "Bring her here," he ordered, as the observers- stationed high above the floor in the balconies that lined the hall lengthways- broke out in murmurs, their craning necks half-shielded from view by the gauze curtains they sat behind.

"Shh," Bulma whispered to the child in her arms as she rounded the large stand on which the King's throne sat. "Don't grab at my boobs, either. You're in front of the King of Saiyans, he's very important."

The boy appeared to understand the significance of the title 'King', his tail began to shake again, and his little body pressed further into hers. Bulma moved her arms once more; he may have been small, but after holding him for fifteen minutes, her arms were aching.

"You never cease to surprise me," the King greeted her, his mouth turning up in a sardonic grin. "Now I find you stealing Saiyan children, as well as warming my son's bed. Trying to make yourself a happy family, are you? Think you'll become Saiyan, by pretending to be this one's mother?"

"I'm quite happy being Human, Your Highness," she replied, nodding her head in acknowledgement. She hoped that the King, seeing her under her present burden, would find that as sufficient as a bow.

"I found him in an alcove, on the way back from the labs," she continued, rubbing the boy's back absent-mindedly as she spoke. "He wouldn't tell me who his parents were or why he was there, there wasn't anyone around, and I couldn't just leave him there."

"Of course not, you Humans are soft with mercy, so I have heard."

"He's little more than a baby. He needs his parents, wherever they are. I was hoping you could help, Your Highness. Perhaps someone here recognizes who he is?" she asked, looking up at the King from where he sat, high upon his throne.

"I find it quite amusing," the King replied, "that you presume to know what the child needs. Did you know that a Saiyan child can survive on their own from ten days onwards? Saiyan babies have special fat reserves that allow then to go without food, their basic instinct allows them to determine which foods are suitable for their small digestive tracts, even at that young age, and they are fully mobile. A Saiyan child does not need any help, although it is recognized that the longer they spend on the mother's breast, the better it is for the child's development."

Bulma pursed her lips, her eyebrows forming into a slight frown. "I know Saiyan babies can survive like that; my friend, the one everyone now calls the mysterious 'Earth Saiyan', was sent to Earth as an infant. But like you said, Your Highness, I don't think its ideal. And this little one is an elite, from what I can tell… so I assume he has been with his mother for his whole life."

"Oh, he's the child of a noble, all right," the King replied, inclining his head to one of the guards that stood halfway down the long room. "Chard here is his father."

Bulma turned to look at the guard singled out, before looking down at the boy in her arms. The resemblance was obvious; apart from the boy maintaining an overall rounder appearance, with the small nose of childhood, both father and son had the same face, although the boy's hair was short by Saiyan standards, while his father's mane draped further down the back.

Upon spotting his father, the little boy began to squirm once more, but stopped immediately as his father hissed through his teeth, the sound barely audible to Bulma's ears. Bulma resisted the urge to turn her face away from the guard's view; the man was scowling intensely at his son, and Bulma realized with panic that the boy might actually be beaten for his obvious misbehavior.

"Today was the beginning of training for the latest batch of younglings; this boy here is supposed to be in military school," the King scowled, his lips pressing into a thin line beneath his beard.

"Military…" Bulma echoed in shock, looking down at the fuzzy ball in her arms, the small tail once more shaking uncontrollably. "But… he's a baby!"

"A newborn is old enough to transform, should they happen to look at a full moon. This _baby_," the King continued maliciously, "is old enough to kill. Today should have been the day he first proved that; we have a tank full of modified Saibamen specifically for the youngsters to attack. Instead, this weak coward has deserted his duty!"

"He's just a baby!" Bulma stressed again, stepping backwards, her grip tightening on the boy, who let out a small whimper in response. "You can't… please… don't punish him for…"

"You will not tell me what I can and can't do!" the King bellowed, rising from his chair. "I am the King of Saiyans! You are nothing but an alien whore; if my son wasn't fucking you, I'd damn well break you and kill you myself! It's only out of courtesy to my son that I allow you to live here, wench!"

"I… I didn't mean any disrespect, Your Highness," she stammered in quick reply, this time forcing herself to bow deeply, despite the weight in her arms. "I don't presume to tell you what to do, Sir."

"No, you don't," he replied, moving swiftly towards her. Cruelly snatching at the boy, he pulled at the child's tail, the appendage ripping free from the little body with a piercing howl from its owner. Tossing the boy- now rendered unconscious by the sudden pain- into Zorn's arms, he smirked, his eyes glinting in evil pleasure.

"Zorn, make sure he is declared a low-class. Have him housed with all the other low-life brats here on this planet. This, my dear Earth Lady, is how we punish young deserters. It is one-up from death, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're a monster," she spat venomously.

She did not see the hand that struck her; the blow came too sudden, the movement too quick for her to even recognize before she crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

"Crap, it looks like Frieza's already hit this part of the galaxy too!" Tora hissed, crouching behind a boulder. "His soldiers are crawling all over this place!"

"Well, get back up here!" Fasha hissed over the scouter. This was the third planet they had stopped on, and each, they had found with dismay, had already been conquered by the tyrant overlord. The first had been re-inhabited by new, weak aliens that gave them no trouble, and from there they were able to purchase a set of scouters that ran on a private channel, as well as stock up on food supplies. But now supplies were running low, and it seemed that the universe, once a playground for soldiers like them, now held new dangers at every corner.

"Look, we could take on a few of them, grab some of the food we need, and then go. We'll do it real quick, no fussing around; just take their heads off as fast as you can. Got it, guys?"

"Yeah, we got it," replied Borgos over the scouter. Tora grinned, noting the hulking, balding Saiyan hiding behind a rock formation to his left.

"Sure thing, Tora," came Shugesh's reply. "I'm pretty close to some of them now, and I can smell the food. We gotta do this now, or I might end up eating my own tail in hunger!"

"No!" hissed Fasha over the scouter. Left behind to guard the expensive ship, she now paced the cockpit floor, her tail lashing angrily behind her. "Come back now! We have enough rations to make it to the next planet, and we can't risk getting caught! Frieza sent Dodoria to kill us last time, if he gets wind of us, he might send the Ginyus!"

"Look, you might be watching your weight, Fasha," Tora replied, "but we're grown men. We've gotta eat!"

"We've got to find more Saiyans, that what we have to do! In hell, we were all there, right? They might be back alive too! We have to find Saiyan survivors! Remember Bardock's son? Wasn't he getting sent off somewhere? He'll be alive now, we could find him! Use your brains and come back now, before we get caught. Attacking Frieza's base is a bad idea. Just think, what would Bardock do?"

"Bardock? He'd attack."

"Yeah," Shugesh added, "he wouldn't waste any time at all. Let's go."

"Argh!" Fasha hissed. "You stupid men! You don't know anything!"

* * *

Bulma groaned, her hand automatically rising to touch her face. Hissing, she pulled it back; the left side of her face felt like it was on fire, and touching it made the pain even worse.

"That was really ballsy, what you did to day. Dad wouldn't have believed it, except that he saw it with his own eyes. We were watching."

"What?" Bulma moaned, forcing her eyes open against the harsh glare above. She moaned again as she realized only the right eye worked properly; her left one opened only a slit, and all she could see from that side was a blur. Winking away the tears forming in her right eye, she saw a young, feminine face come into view, hovering above her, a wide grin fixed on the owner's mouth. Thick black hair framed the figure, and Bulma closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as she remembered where she was.

_Vegetasei. I'm with the Saiyans._

Opening her eyes once more, she squinted against the bright light, her eyes skimming over the face, searching for recognition. "Who…?"

"Is she awake?" came a deep, rumbling voice from somewhere behind her, and Bulma sighed in relief. Nappa was here, meaning the girl… the girl… She moaned again, clutching her forehead. It hurt too much to think.

"Bulma," Nappa spoke again, and she mumbled in reply. She didn't protest as the worn hands lifted her head gently, pressing water to her mouth like he had done once before. Opening her eyes once again, she looked into his face, noting that it was oddly concerned.

"You are one lucky bitch," he told her, the lines between his brows deepening. "Anyone else and you would be dead."

"The King…" she mumbled. "Oh… oh… did he…"

"He knocked your lights out!" the girl offered, her head bobbing back into view.

"Leeka!" Nappa reprimanded. "Just go… go out for the day, and come back later."

"S… okay," Bulma offered, trying to smile. She winced as the pain flamed up once more, letting out a cry as something cold was pressed against her cheek.

"It'll stop the swelling," the girl said. "Your face looks even bluer than your hair."

"Leeka," Nappa growled again, both Saiyans locking eyes in a silent duel. With a sigh, the girl rolled her eyes, peering once more down at Bulma.

"When I heard that my Dad had been hanging round with the Prince's whore, I was embarrassed, to say the least," the girl said, a smirk settling on her features, "but I'm glad he does, now! You're the first chick who's ever gone up against the King and survived! Better yet, you got bitch slapped! It's awesome!"

"Leeka!"

"Okay, okay, I'm _going_," the girl snarled, lightly whacking Nappa's shoulder. "Grumpy old man," Bulma heard her mumble as the lanky form walked out of view.

"She's pretty," Bulma whispered hoarsely, looking up at Nappa. The Saiyan man grunted in reply.

"Right now, you're not. I don't know what Vegeta will do when he sees you."

* * *

"…_now entering the domain of Lord Frieza. For industrial planets, press one. For commercial planets, press two. For resort planets, press three. For brothel planets, press four. For Lord Frieza's personal bases, press five. For a directory of recommended planets in your near vicinity, press six. To use a search operation for a specific planet, press seven. To speak to an operator, press eight. If you already know where you are going, please have a safe journey. To hear this message again, press nine…_

"_Welcome to the Cold Empire. You are now entering the domain of Lord Frieza. For industrial planets, press one. For commercial planets…"_

"Tarble!" Gure called, jumping off the high seat provided for her in the cockpit. "How do you turn this message system off? It keeps repeating!"

"Uhhh, I think you have to lift the headset on the right, and then press the green button above the 'abort system' button, and then put the headset back down," he called from the small kitchen.

"It's not working!" Gure called again, struggling to reach across the large desk of controls. They had been required to purchase a ship big enough to house Tarble, herself, their various belongings, and the gifts sent from the Roudo nobility for the Saiyans in hope of a continuing alliance. A big ship meant everything was too big for Gure's liking, and she found herself unable to see over desks without using her ki to fly, and almost drowning in the too-deep baths.

_Although there is a benefit to that_, she thought with a grin, remembering the bath from last night. Seeing that his wife had been unable to reach the bottom in the deep bath- which was unfortunately set to fill to one automatic amount- Tarble had been required to _assist, _and had done so most ingeniously.

"Tarble!" she shrieked, dropping the handset onto the ground as she slipped. "Turn this thing off!"

"…_For brothel planets, press four. For Lord Frieza's personal bases, press five. For a directory of…"_

"I do not want to go to a brothel planet!" she yelled at the computer system as her Saiyan husband ran up behind her, quickly picking up the handset and silencing the noise before his usually-placid wife threw a rare, but no less terrible, tantrum.

"It's off, it's off," Tarble whispered, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's okay."

"Why did that come on anyway?" Gure asked, frowning at the computer. "Does Frieza monitor everyone's movements? What if we get followed by fighters! They could…"

"Gure," Tarble replied, placing his hands on her soldiers as he crouched in front of her. "Honey, they send that message out to be picked up by every ship passing through the area, it means nothing. No one's watching us, we're fine. And even if they were, I… look, I don't like fighting, and I don't like violence, period. But I'm still a Saiyan, Gure." His voice, low before, dipped even further, until it came out in a husked whisper, his eyes hardening as he stared into hers. "I don't like fighting, but I'm not entirely incapable at it… you know that yourself. And I'll do _anything_, before I let anyone harm my wife."

"Tarble…"

"Nothing will happen to us," he stressed, standing up again. "And once we get to Vegetasei… my mother was an important woman. We'll be safe with her."

* * *

Wrapped in a large cloak belonging to Nappa's daughter, Bulma felt safe and secure in the giant Saiyan's arms, as he carried her back to Vegeta's wing of the palace. Thankfully, the large hood shrouded her face, hiding the swollen bruise that was now in full bloom across her left cheek, mercilessly pushing her puffy eye shut, and leaving her speech muffled through swollen lips.

The regeneration tanks, usually such faithful appliances for an injured Saiyan, did not work on Humans, as they lacked the data for Human DNA. For once, Bulma didn't feel like fixing technology or trying to alter the machines to suit her. Her head was aching, waves of pain coming with every pounding heartbeat, loud in her ears, and she just wanted to sleep. The day certainly couldn't get any worse.

She was extremely grateful for Nappa's care. The last time she had seen him- the day of the taser incident- he had been furious, vowing to her that he would never aid her in any way again. Yet she had woken in his quarters, and learned from him what had happened after she collapsed.

Furious at her, it seemed the King still had the sense not to kill his son's property. Instead he had demanded for the guards to drag her away, to _do something_ to get the alien whore off his red carpet. Witnessing the incident from the viewing galleries, Nappa had rushed to meet the guards in the outer corridors, and the guards, it seemed, were all too happy to pass their burden onto him.

He was right to worry about how Vegeta would react to all of this. The King had issued an order; the Prince's whore was now not allowed to leave the palace, without permission from a royal. It was his sick form of continuous punishment; she was not allowed to go visit the Namekians who could heal her, and anyone seen bringing a Namekian to the palace would be taken as one truly disrespectful to their King. Nappa was risking a lot just helping her now.

Her face would have to heal naturally; thankfully, despite the pain and appearance, there were no breaks in the bone beneath, and there would be no scarring. For now, though, it hurt like hell.

"Kaiware contacted me while you were sleeping," Nappa spoke, his deep voice startling her from her thoughts. "She says you should remain in Vegeta's quarters until the Prince gets back. I think you should do as she says."

Bulma nodded slowly, carefully standing up as Nappa set her down outside the entrance to Vegeta's place.

"Thank you," she told him, craning her neck to look into his face. "You're a good man."

Surprise flitted momentarily across Nappa's face, before it settled back into the usual Saiyan scowl.

"I've been called many names before," he told her quietly, "but never that."

* * *

Vegeta slipped further into the hot water, groaning as it warmed his aching muscles. After the dinner with the Eastern nobles the night before, he had vowed not to waste any more time with on the pathetic ass-kissers. Instead he had spent all day in the gravity chamber, pushing his body until his muscles burned and his body dripped of sweat.

The Easterners were right about one thing- the baths were good. He was in a private one now, enjoying a rewarding soak after a day of successful training. He was getting closer to a Super Saiyan, he could feel it.

He ducked his head under the water, enjoying the feeling of suspension in the deep water. Resurfacing, streams of water poured down his face as his eyes opened, just in time to see bare feet padding into the room.

"What are you doing in here?" he hissed, his eyes traveling quickly up the form of a naked woman, her long hair falling around her shoulders.

"Lord Archo sends his regards," she replied seductively, "I am here to pass them on to you."

"No," he replied. "I don't want a slut like you. Fuck off."

"But… Your Highness," she smiled softly, dipping a foot in the water. Her master had said it was important, _very important_, that she pleased the Prince.

"No!" he yelled, jumping out of the marble pool. Grabbing at a towel, he wrapped it hastily around his waist, leaving through the back doors.

The woman looked on in shock, wondering just why the Prince would run from her offer. Feeling more than a little scorned, she turned and left, ready to relay the results back to her employer.

Lord Archo would not be happy.

* * *

He wore only thin pants that hung low on his hips, leaving the smooth, broad back on display. Kaiware sighed, watching her lover from across the silent room.

His forehead was pressed against the window, his eyes closed to the world. She watched him swallow slowly, the Adams apple in his neck moving up and down as the muscles within constricted.

It pained her to see him this way. To the world, to the universe, he was a strong man, a brave man, a man who always knew what to do. Now, alone inside his own wing- the only place where he could truly be himself- his shoulders slumped with the heavy burden he was carrying.

The King of Saiyans carried the world on his shoulders, and it weighed a lot.

She moved slowly, looking for any signals from him telling her to leave. He remained still as a statue, though, and her hands, so small upon his back, stroked a gentle path down his back.

"You did what you had to," she whispered, lips brushing against his skin, "as you always have done. You do what you must, regardless of the cost… only a true King does that."

"I did not think my death would come so soon- again," he murmured quietly. "Not at the hands of my son. But that woman; I've seen the way he looks at her. Surely he will kill me now, for laying a hand upon her."

"Perhaps not," she whispered in reply. "He is fond of you, you know. And he is not ready to be King. I do not think our son- no matter how bloodied his hands may be- would want to murder his own creator. You gave him life; he is indebted to you for that."

"Kaiware… I cannot fight Frieza. I tried once, and failed."

"I know."

"Sometimes I hate him. I envy his strength. Why did he have to be the chosen one? Why not me? Why do I have to watch my son surpass me every day, knowing full well that I will someday be nothing but a figurehead, and he shall have all the power? I should have never had an heir so young."

"You were forty three when he was born," she reminded him, a faint smile curling her lips. "I wouldn't go as far as to call you 'young', my King."

He snorted in reply, his eyes glinting mischievously as he turned to pull her flush against him. "Say that to me again," he murmured in her ear. "Go on, I _dare_ you."

* * *

"Sire, this report just came in from one of your bases."

"Which one?" Frieza asked, his tail twitching slightly.

"Frieza 61," the soldier replied. "It was attacked, by Saiyans, Sire."

"Saiyans?" Frieza hissed slowly, leaning forward. "Surely Vegeta would not be that stupid?"

"Not Vegeta, Sire," the soldier replied, bringing up a short video of the culprits. Three Saiyan males, their tails wrapped around bags full of food, ran through a base corridor, ignoring the mutilated bodies on the floor.

"You can see form their uniform, Sire, that they are low level soldiers."

"Hnn," Frieza snarled, leaning back in disgust. "Remnants. I thought we'd wiped them all out by now… these damn monkeys keep crawling out of new holes."

"Shall we kill them, Sire?"

"No. I want them followed. Perhaps these bugs will lead me to their nest."

"As you wish, Sire."

* * *

Bulma woke from the second night without Vegeta, tears pricking her eyes as she accidentally brushed her bruise again. The swelling had reduced, leaving the skin tender and stained in blues, purples and yellows.

She lay in Vegeta's bed; unable to sleep in her own room during the night before, she had figured that the Prince's room would provide safety from anyone wishing to attack her. No one would dare cross into his territory.

Thankfully, the paranoia of the night had diminished with the appearance of the suns. Avoiding rolling onto her left side, she dozed some more, deciding that since she could not leave the quarters, she might as well sleep all day.

The King… she didn't know how she would act, the next time she saw him. Part of her wondered if she would even see the King again; she knew Vegeta was attracted to her, and when meeting Bardock and Pae, she had witnessed the possessiveness that Saiyans held towards their partners. Would Vegeta lose it when he saw her next? Could he kill his own father?

The thought chilled her suddenly, and she pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders. It was no secret that he had a foul temper, and a tendency to act swiftly with violence. The King had hurt her, and had wounded more than just her face- what little pride she had retained here felt weakened too. Because of the King, she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide in shame; it was not something that Bulma Briefs of Earth was used to feeling.

Despite all of that, though, she did not want to see the King hurt. It was a misunderstanding- a _big_ misunderstanding- but a mistake nonetheless. Saiyans, being who they were, took everything literally. She said 'you can't'- a very common way for Human's to phrase their sentences- and the King had taken it as her attempt to order him around.

It was her greatest fear that someone would be killed on her account. She did not want that on her conscience.

She sighed, breathing in the scent of _him_ on his pillows; the delicious, sweet, spicy smell invading her mind, bringing back memories of him shirtless, lying beside her.

Gods, she was pathetic. Her heart, she concluded, had now lost all contact with her logical brain, to the point that she was wallowing without Vegeta near. How had she let this happen?

_It's those damn muscles; I've always been a sucker for buff men. And his eyes, and that skin… and the smirk._ Her grin turned into a frown, and she tossed a pillow angrily at the wall. Falling for Vegeta was not convenient in the slightest. She did not belong here; she needed no more proof of that than the bruise that marred her face. Vegeta was a Prince- later he would be a King, and then he would need an heir.

That wasn't something an alien woman could provide.

With a groan, directed at her foolish, crush-stricken mind, she pulled a blanket over her head, and forced herself to sleep.

It was mid-afternoon when she woke again to the sound of the door opening. She sat up groggily, watching as the Prince strode in with a sigh, his tail unraveling from his waist.

He noticed her immediately; she could tell he had been preparing to reprimand her for being in his quarters. Instead, the words died on his lips as he saw her, his eyebrows rising in shock, wide eyes and gaping mouth staring back at her ugly face.

"Vegeta," she spoke, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. "Please, just listen, and don't make any judgments until I'm done…"

* * *

**A/N:** The ideas for Saiyan aging that I've adopted stem from a discussion on a DBZ forum I frequently look at. Apparently Toriyama has stated in a recent interview that Saiyans don't live that much longer than Humans, instead they just stay 'young' for ages, before suddenly deteriorating into old age. An average life span wasn't specified, so I simply guessed. I'm sure some people would have been wondering what I was talking about in that part of the chapter, so I wanted to tell you all that I didn't simply pluck that idea out of thin air.


	20. Inward Contemplation of Wants and Needs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

**Chapter Twenty: Inward Contemplation of Wants and Needs**

**A/N:** I've done something a bit different in this chapter by italicizing an entire portion of the chapter because that's the only way that particular flashback seemed to work (as it turns out, there is a flashback within the flashback… it makes sense though!). Thought I'd just give everyone warning. And thanks to all the reviewers/followers of this story, I really appreciate your feedback. :)

* * *

_The most important thing to a Saiyan is his pride._

It was a mantra that had echoed in Vegeta's head since he was a young boy- since before he could stand, even. Everyone had fed him those words- his mother, the Lords and Ladies, his father.

It was his father's voice that spoke the words in his head now, in that deep, clear voice that held power and conviction, and never once faltered for anyone.

He tried to push the voice away, and the thoughts of the man who owned it. No, he could not think of anyone now, his mind had to remain clear for the task ahead. What he was about to do could only be done by a creature without a conscience. He had no time for mercy.

And as always, he pushed away that small, nagging feeling at the back of his skull. The one that, if allowed a foothold, would sprout into guilt; growing quickly into terror and despair at all he would done. Once again, as his footsteps echoed like clockwork down the halls, he reminded himself that he was evil, soul-less, and destined for hell. He had always been, and there was no changing it now.

He could already feel it; the cold iciness that spread over him before a massacre. It was all he could do to protect himself from the bloodshed. His mind emptied, as did whatever lay in his chest, and all that remained was a killing machine. The best in the universe.

He smiled at that thought, his lips curling back in an expression that bordered on ugliness, his teeth bared in grimace. He truly was the best killer in the universe; no one worked as efficiently as he, which was why Frieza had been willing to overlook his rebellious tendencies for so long.

_Too long_, he snickered to himself. _Soon I'll destroy him, and rule the universe_.

The thought of ruling gave him a sudden shock, as if he had bitten down on something bitter. His father ruled this planet, and now…

He shook his head in annoyance. There was no room for thoughts here; he needed the monster inside for this job. The bloodthirsty, primeval Saiyan was hungry, and today he would have his feed, in the name of his pride.

So absorbed in his own thoughts, he jumped when a figure moved out from an alcove to stand in his path. With his heart already running at an increased rate, it now thudded loudly in his ears as he swallowed, trying to regain complete composure before the person noticed his mishap.

He grunted in annoyance as he quickly realized who the figure was. With a sigh of impatience he folded his arms, rocking slightly back on his heels.

"Get out of the way, Kaiware."

"I need to speak to you, son," she replied, walking forward until she stood directly under the hall lamp. "Will you take a walk around the gardens with me?"

Vegeta growled under his breath, his anger quickly rising. "Don't give me this bullshit! Of the weakling things to do, I can't believe _he_ would send _you_ here to try and stop me!"

"I sent myself here, Vegeta," she replied, managing to mix just a hint of motherliness into her usually flat tone. "You do not need to go to such measures to prove yourself; everyone already knows you're the strongest. Attacking your father is a foolish…"

"Shut up! I know what's best, woman!"

"Don't you talk to me like that!" she spat back, hair and fur bristling together. "I am a Lady of the highest class! I am the strongest woman on this planet, and by gods, if I wasn't pregnant, I'd slap you 'round the ears for ever addressing me with such disrespect, _son_." Glaring into his eyes, her emphasis on the word 'son' made it clear just who she considered top in the pecking order, her balled fists daring him to defy her.

It was the word 'pregnant', however, that made Vegeta's eyes widen, black orbs flicking down to take in her appearance. She was not wearing the usual armour of the nobility; instead a cloak hung from her shoulders, opening in the front to reveal the loose garments of a woman with child, one of her delicate hands fluttering gently over her lower stomach.

"I only just realized myself," she explained, seeing his dawning realization. "I haven't felt like fighting or training for weeks… the nausea… but I didn't think- it seemed too soon- until I realized that it could have happened before… before we all died."

"It's his child?" Vegeta heard his own voice croak, his eyes traveling up to her face. "The… King's?"

"Of course it's his!" she snapped back, cheeks flushing in outrage. She took a deep breath, and Vegeta saw the effort that it took her to calm down. She was like him; _or I am like her_, he thought, swallowing down the odd feeling that came with recognizing the origins of his own mannerisms from within his tiny mother. Whatever way around it was, they both had flaring tempers, and the tendency to hold grudges far longer than most, even for Saiyans.

"I'm two months along now," she continued in a quieter voice. "I was on my way to tell him."

"I see."

"Don't kill him," she whispered, so quiet that he hardly heard her. "Not now. Not when we finally have… have some freedom from Frieza."

Silence stretched between them, the only sound coming from a lazy fly, buzzing slowly down the hallway.

"Get out of my way, Kaiware," he repeated, taking a step forward. "Or I will make you."

"Don't you dare tell me that you don't owe him a life, because you do!" she yelled, holding her head high. "You are his son; his flesh and blood and image! He _made_ you…"

"I _really_ don't want to hear about that." Vegeta cut in, snarling in distaste.

"They won't support you. Already there is too much talk of you, Vegeta. You'll cause a revolt if you take the throne."

"I am the most powerful Saiyan in the universe. They can't harm me."

"So you'll rule them as a tyrant, like Frieza did to you? Is that your great plan, son? Don't be a fool," she snarled, lips curling back. "You don't know how to run your own life, let alone a planet."

"I know exactly what to do!" he bellowed, stalking forward until he stood menacingly over her, staring down in wide eyed fury. To her credit she stood her ground, showing neither fear nor retreat.

They stood still, bodies tense, staring unblinking into the matching black depths of their eyes. Finally Kaiware gave a defeated sigh, her hand traveling up slowly to rest gently on his cheek, in the way she had always touched her eldest son.

"Geeta," she whispered, using the endearment she had not spoken since he was a toddler. "Your people need that man, to hold them together while you are at war with Frieza. Don't do what the Colds wanted; for years they've tried to destroy the Saiyans from the inside out. Don't be Frieza's tool. If you destroy the King, you destroy us too. And one day, when you have sons of your own… they'll do the same to you."

She turned and left him there, her dainty steps light on the passageway floor, her cloak shimmering briefly in the light as she turned towards the entrance of the King's quarters, all the while wondering if her son would follow her, and pleading silently that he would not.

* * *

Bulma tore down the hallways, her feet, clad only in socks, skidding across the smooth surface of the marble floor at every turn. Her lips still burned with a mixture of pleasure and pain, and her breath hitched as she remembered Vegeta's last words to her.

"_You are mine! I will not allow any man to lay his hands on you and live! Any man that attacks you attacks my property, and my pride."_

He had kissed her forcibly then, his lips claiming her in a rush that made her cry with pain from the pressure on her bruise. Then he had stormed out the door, leaving her with an increasing sense of panic.

She didn't know what his reaction to her injuries meant for the two of them. Once the initial shock had worn off his face, he had stormed over to her, frown deepening as he grabbed her wrists, his eyes slowly travelling over every inch of her in an intense examination.

"_I'm fine, Vegeta,"_ she had told him quietly, squirming in an attempt to loosen his grip. _"It's just a bruise. You've given me worse injuries, on Namek."_

His eyes had met hers then, surprise, and something else mixing in their dark depths. He said nothing, but she could have sworn she saw regret swirling in there, and the realization that he possibly cared, beyond the needs of the flesh, had made her stomach flutter.

She had sighed then, letting the nightmares of the last few days drain away as she told him what happened, describing the little boy, and the child's punishment. _"I know it's different here, but still… tearing off that baby's tail? I couldn't help it, I just blurted it out."_

"_What?"_ Vegeta had urged, sitting down beside her on the bed, his cape, vivid in red and orange, rustling beneath him. _"Explain, woman."_

She had sighed again in reluctance, leaning against his arm. _"I called your father a monster,"_ she murmured, hoping he didn't hear her, and knowing all the same that he did, as the muscles in his arm tensed underneath her.

"_Foolish,"_ he had whispered, the warmth of his breath settling on her hair. _"So it was my father, then, that did this to you."_

"_It's nothing. Just a cultural misunderstanding. There's nothing you can do about it."_

"_Oh, but there is, Bulma_."

The ice in his voice then had sent a chill running down her spine. _"You can't… don't…"_

"_Do not tell me what to do, woman."_

It was then that he grabbed her by the shoulders, telling her that she was his property, forcing his lips upon her. Then he was up, sweeping out of the room in a flash of red and blue before she could utter any words. And she was left with nothing but an increasing sense of dread, scenes of future turmoil playing through her head.

_Please don't let me be too late_, she pleaded to the heavens, as she ran through the maze of corridors, ignoring the state of her dress- pyjamas and hair in disarray- in the hope of stopping Vegeta before he made a huge mistake. _Don't let him kill his father. He… he couldn't!_ But as she ran the sick feeling continued to grow, and though she refused to admit it, she knew he damn well could. And that truth- that he could kill even the closest of his kin- froze her to the core.

It was anger that she used to thaw herself out; anger at him, for his brash foolishness, for the fact that he dared to call her 'property'. The urge to scream at him pushed her legs forward, one after the other, despite the burning of the muscle.

She was running towards the only place she could think of that the King would be in the early afternoon- the throne room. Random nobles stopped to stare as she flew past, but she ignored them, intent on her goal. She was certain that she was the only one who could stop Vegeta, if he really did decide that murder was the only option.

Zorn's descriptions of his other kills echoed through her head along with the echoes of her feet, thumping down the path, and the sound of her heart, beating quick in her ears. _"I heard one of the spies killed was found inside his apartment… but they never found his head. I was just talking to one of my colleagues yesterday; it seems our Prince has a liking for making body parts disappear. After all, the Finance Minister's heart completely disintegrated when Prince Vegeta crushed it in his hands. You should have seen the blood; it was redder than the clearest sky."_

"Where are they?" she screamed as she moved into the throne room, finding the throne itself unoccupied, and only a small cluster of guards milling about the far end of the room. The public gallery had a few more bodies here and there, but overall the place screamed of emptiness, and the weight of fear dropped further in her stomach.

The guards merely gaped at her; no one had seen her bruising, on top of her strange clothing, it was enough to make their jaws drop. "Who?" one asked, his tail twisting behind him in confusion.

"Vegeta! The Prince! And the King! Where are they?"

"The King has retired for today," another replied, shifting so that he could stare at her. "Why?"

She didn't bother thanking him, but turned and sped away, leaving the cluster of confused people behind her.

_I'm too late. I'll be too late!_

* * *

"Did you see her? Was that bruise where the King hit her?"

"I don't know; I wasn't here the day it happened. But her dress! What was she wearing today?"

"Probably some strange Earthling outfi…"

Leeka stepped back from the cluster of women in the observation gallery, trying her best to sidle her way out off the small crowd gathering before anyone noticed. Her father had told her to help the Earth woman if she saw the weakling in trouble, and Leeka had no trouble in realizing that this was one of those moments.

She still didn't understand why her father acted like such a big dope around the blue woman, especially since he clearly wasn't getting any from the alien. But Nappa's threats to break her tail had been enough to make Leeka promise that she would help the Earthling if their paths met again- she knew her father had a bad temper.

"Well I think it was admirable, albeit stupid, for that alien to speak her mind," said another woman as Leeka turned to walk out. The young Saiyan stopped, turning her head to pick up the rest of the conversation.

"I agree. I've seen the way that woman acts, she walks with pride, even though she's weak."

Another woman laughed in a high pitched hoot that rang loudly through the open room. "It's almost a shame she's not Saiyan."

"For her!" another answered. "Personally, I'm glad she's only a weakling."

"Scared of the competition, eh?"

Leeka walked away from the babble of cackling females, shaking her head slowly as if to diffuse the noise. Saiyan nobles were known for their uptight behaviour, but those that frequented the court were known as the worst. And yet, sometimes, court gossip really did come in handy.

She was just beginning to realize the magnitude of the little alien's injuries. It wasn't the bruise itself that mattered, but the repercussions.

The Saiyans knew a warrior when they saw one. And a woman who could take on the King was indeed that, even if her only weapon was her tongue.

* * *

The King of Saiyans sighed again, pulling off the amulet that signaled his title and placing it flat upon the table. Midway through shrugging off his armour he jumped, whirling around with closed fists, ready to fight for his life.

"Oh. It's you," he said plainly, dropping the armour nonchalantly on the ground in an attempt to recover his pride.

The corner of Kaiware's mouth twitched in slight amusement as she crossed her arms. "Expecting someone else?" She repressed the urge to grin outright- he had looked ridiculous when he whirled around, his harms half trapped in the armour he had been removing. Still, it was an indication of the great warrior he was that he would be on guard immediately on her entrance into the room.

"Mphm," he grunted in reply, snorting through his nose like a beast as he turned away, removing his undershirt and spandex bottoms as he headed towards his own sleeping quarters, so that by the time he passed through the doors at the end of the spacious room he wore nothing but his own skin, gleaming a ruddy bronze in the afternoon light.

Kaiware rolled her eyes in exasperation. _Bloody male_, she thought, pursing her lips together, _just expects me to follow him like some sick puppy._

She had her pride, damn it. But her feet padded across the carpet towards him, and her teeth flashed as her lips stretched in amusement, her mind focused on the memory of that toned ass underneath her hands.

It was only as he turned back to face her, smirking- she had followed him, he knew she would- that he noticed what she was wearing.

He uttered a small exclamation, his eyes meeting hers quickly, darting back down to her body, honing in on her midsection, then back up to her face. She stood still, her mouth turned up slightly in that ever-knowing smile.

"You're… with child," he heard himself speak, although he was sure he did not have control over his mouth at present. His voice was course, rough with shock, but quiet at the same time. At her answering nod he began counting back, feeling himself frown as the numbers stopped making sense.

"Impossible," he murmured, looking into her face. "It's too soon to tell… Bitch! Who the fuck is he?" he exploded, suddenly realizing the child wasn't his, a rock hitting the depths of his own stomach. "You… you whore!" he spat vehemently. "Filthy bitch, you dare come here pregnant with another man's child!"

Throughout this outburst Kaiware had undergone her own transformations of emotions, changing swiftly from contentment to furious outrage. "Fool!" she cried back. "I was dead just as long as you, you stupid man! Use your head, the child is from before we died!"

"I know that!" he bellowed. "And I know we hadn't done anything for months before we died! You think I'd forget! Who is he! I'll kill him! And you, you…"

"You forgot! You did forget, you stinking bastard!" Kaiware screamed, her tail lashing out in whipping movements that sent nearby furniture flying. "The child is yours, you foolish son of a bitch! Can't you remember? The day Frieza took our son? Can't you remember _that_?"

And suddenly he did remember, the memories of the day he had long suppressed flooding back, as if the twenty five years separation from now did not exist at all.

_It wasn't bad enough that Frieza was taking his son. No, the bastard lizard decided to insult him further by sending one of his minions down to fetch the boy, instead of returning personally. It didn't matter that he hated the Son of Cold; he was King, and his title should have warranted a visit from the empire that they served._

_Swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat at the thoughts, he tightened his grip on the boy's small shoulders, knowing he was probably hurting the brat, but not caring all the same._

_A few meters opposite stood the envoy, patiently waiting, golden eyes staring back at him with ill-concealed hate._

"_My dear Saiyan King," drawled Zarbon, making a sweeping bow that was mockingly low. "I've come to escort your little Prince. Don't worry yourself over his safety; I promise I'll take good care of him."_

_He growled then, not caring if Zarbon heard him or not. The hate between them was mutual; he had never liked the young, brash pansy-boy, even less now because the golden eyes were too much like his daughter's… too much like __**hers**__- that woman whose name was forbidden._

_As for Zarbon, well, he thought with grim satisfaction, the alien knew he had fucked his sister. Zarbon knew, too, that the girl had died a long time ago; as the King, he had allowed that gossip to travel through the elite troops. No one, however, had ever mentioned why the woman died._

_And he was thankful, looking into the cold, golden eyes of the woman's brother, that the alien man did not know he had a niece. _

_No, the King of Saiyans was already relinquishing one child today, and his other boy, a weak, embarrassing runt, had been shipped off to a peaceful allied colony. He was not about to allow his last child, his half-breed mistake, to be wrenched from under his hands. It was why the girl was never allowed outside the palace- Frieza was never to know of her existence._

_The girl could not fight, being weak and prone to illness. He did not know what had possessed him to keep her alive, save for her mother's last moments, cradling the child that had torn her body apart, mother and daughter alike swathed in hot blood._

"_Call her…" __**she**__ had whispered. "Call her… Karolia. It was my mother's name… and Karo is a Saiyan name, too."_

_He had sworn that he would, and watched the young woman he had come to cherish wither suddenly in front of his eyes, her own eyes focused in the last moments upon the tiny thing they had made together._

_Now his daughter Karo was fifteen, and more than attractive enough to catch the attention of every male soldier on the planet, although none dared to approach her for risk of angering him. Worse than that, he knew all to well that if Frieza knew of her, she would be shipped off immediately, to become what her mother had been to him._

_And sterile as she was- for she was a defective hybrid, with an uneven amount of chromosomes, unable to produce viable eggs- she would be some other bastard's wet dream, with pale complexion, big golden eyes, and the inability to get pregnant. _

"_You must say goodbye to your father, little Prince," the alien spoke, jarring him out of his own thoughts. He looked down at the boy, whose small face turned up to meet his stare, the pudgy features turned down in a serious frown._

"_I do not want to go with that ugly weakling!" his boy snapped, lower lip jutting forward in a pout. "Why don't you just order him away, father?"_

_Ignoring the temptation to do just that, he knelt in front of his son, grasping the child's sturdy frame and giving the boy a little shake. "You must go and represent us all to Lord Frieza. Follow orders, and fight well. I'll see you in a year, boy."_

_It pained him to see fear flash in the child's eyes- the boy had clearly thought he would call off the deal at the last moment. Nevertheless, the tiny brat lifted his chin, his jaw hardening with determination. "I will not let you down, father."_

_Kaiware stood behind him as the three pods blasted out; he remained watching as Zarbon, Nappa and his son left the atmosphere. Frieza had said a year, but the knot in his stomach told him it would be much longer before he saw the boy again._

_He turned his back on the sight, snarling at everyone he passed, and returned alone to his quarters. The guards, reading his mood, were smart and kept far back, far out of the way._

_As he undressed, he knew the girls were afraid. They always whimpered when he was in a bad mood, cowering in the corners, their flimsy fabrics wrapped tight around large breasts and hips, doing nothing to hide what was underneath._

_And that was what he needed, he decided, as he crashed down the hall, smashing things as he went. He'd call for the Munian; she was a bit stronger, and could handle it rough. He wasn't in the mood for butterfly kisses today._

_The door crashed open behind him, and he whirled, shocked to see the woman who, months before, had gone cold on him. Kaiware stormed towards him, hands balled into tight fists, her face scrunched up in fury._

"_Ass!" she screamed, throwing herself at him. He dodged just in time to miss her clawed hands, and bellowed as she swiped again, her nails tearing the skin as she raked down his bare chest._

_He threw her against the wall, pinning her much smaller body neatly, a ferocious growl ripping through his throat. She had no right to attack him; he was King, he was untouchable._

"_How could you let that alien bastard take him! How could you let that monstrous thing, with his fucking gold eyes, like that little bitch of yours…"_

_He slapped her hard across the face, not letting her complete the sentence, He knew he was in a right mess; he had been, throughout his entire reign. But it was not __**his**__ fault he had inherited a planet in disrepute from his father, along with a bunch of lizard overlords._

_He told her so, yelling in her face until his voice grew hoarse, ignoring the bruises as she kicked his shins, ducking his head ever time she tried to bite him._

"_He took my child!" she screamed, her face turning red. "He took my child! Now I have none; you have given all my boys away!"_

_She was a good fighter; it had been one of the reasons- albeit one of many- why he chose her for his heirs. She freed her arms now, dodging his grabs effortlessly, twisting about and using her small size to her advantage in the lavishly decorated hallway._

_He was still stronger though. They exchanged blows, many of them strong enough to loosen teeth, all the while snarling and biting, clawing each other's skin, taking out their frustrations through violence._

_It was the only therapy Saiyans knew._

_Arousal during fights was only natural; it happened now and then, men engorged in the elation of victory would become engorged in other ways too. It was happening now, as she wriggled underneath him, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she kneed him high in the guts. Her armour had somehow come off; almost unconsciously he was tearing at the spandex, grunting with the force of keeping her underneath him._

_But she got away, jumping on top of him and dealing him a blow that sent his head crashing into the marble floor. He was so dazed he hardly noticed her hands pulling down his own clothing, freeing his body from all his confines._

"_You bastard," she hissed, slapping his face once more. "Fight me, you weakling. Or are you just going to give in?"_

_With a yell that echoed through the palace he fought back, and they did each other violence, hating and loathing and appreciating each other's understanding all at the same time. They were the same; it was why she always came back. No one understood each other as they did. No one else could give each other all that they gave, and still retain themselves, underneath it all._

_He did not understand what it meant, but at that moment he was too busy to care about anything._

"Oh…" he cleared his throat, nodding slowly. "I remember."

This time it was her turn to snort, cocking her head to the side. "Honestly Vegeta," she spoke, giving him one of those tones, "I haven't lain with another man but you, since the tournament that decided… it," she finished, gesturing with her hand as if she were brushing off a fly. She never liked mentioning the way in which they had first come together.

His eyes travelled slowly over her again, his feet moving forward on his own accord. Gently, he knelt in front of her, ear pressed to her still-smooth stomach. It was far too early to see any physical differences in her, but listening carefully, his sensitive ears could pick up the faint flutter of a heart beating separate to its mother's.

"Gods," he murmured, his voice muffled as he pressed his face closer against her. "It's really there."

"Yes, and making me nauseous," she said tersely, although she remained still, happy to let him stroke slowly across her hips. She made a small noise of amusement and invitation as he bit at her clothing, her eyes glinting as she looked down into his face, one eyebrow of his raised in question.

His face quickly changed as the noise of feet, landing with a soft pat on the balcony, reached their ears. A tearing sound came as the metal locks of the glass doors were ripped into, the doors screeching open as their hinges buckled under the strain. Kaiware heard the window panes shatter and swallowed the bile rising in her throat; she had thought she had dissuaded her son, now she realized she should have warned her lover.

Both remained silent as their son stalked in, closing the gap between them in slow, steady footsteps. Handsome like his father, small in stature like his mother, the man moved with the grace of a feline, tail swaying slowly out behind him as he eyed his prey.

Ignoring his nudity, nor the half-stiff member between his legs that had come from holding his woman, the King crouched, his muscles tensing as he prepared himself for the fight of his life.

Kaiware found herself with no choice but to step back, her own body weakened by pregnancy. Like all Saiyan warriors, she had seen the look of murder in other's eyes many times; she knew herself how it felt, to be under the spell of power. It was too late for words.

There was a flash of movement, too fast for her to catch with any coherency, and her lover was sprawled back against the bed, his son's tail wrapped firmly around his throat. The King made a gurgled noise of surprise, and Kaiware was at once amazed by the efficiency of her son. Proving to her once and for all that he was the most superior fighter, he had each of his father's limbs pinned by his own; the King's tail being crushed underneath a knee.

The words the Prince spoke were quiet, but for that, they were all the more menacing.

"This is the only warning you will have. Touch her again, and I shall take your throne with more force, and more pain than you could ever imagine possible."

He seemed to disappear as fast as he had come, but his threat echoed within the room, as did the gasps of the King, alive to see another day.

* * *

Bulma gulped in air in huge gasps, her bosom rising quickly with each breath as she collapsed in exhaustion behind the door. She had searched all the rooms she could think of, running as fast as her legs could carry her, and yet she had found no sign of Vegeta. The guards on their afternoon shift outside the King's quarters would not say, as a matter of security, whether the King was within, but had assured her that the Prince had not come through within the past hour.

Finally, she had given up, her only conclusion being that Vegeta had taken the fight somewhere else. No one seemed to know where somewhere else was, though. In defeat she had returned to Vegeta's quarters, all energy leeching out of her until she felt as if all her limbs were made of lead.

"What have you done now, woman?" came an amused voice, and she looked up to see Vegeta leaning nonchalantly against the wall, smirking down at her.

"I've… been looking… for you…" she huffed, glaring at him. "Tell me you didn't… didn't…"

"Your wound should be healed by the Namekians, woman," he interrupted, pulling her to her feet. "I'm surprised Nappa didn't take you to have it healed earlier."

She bit her lip, refraining from telling him that the King had banned her from leaving the palace. Instead, she frowned, poking him in the chest. "You!" she growled, the effect weakened by the fact that she still did not have enough air in her lungs. "You… don't you… dare… change the subject. I… need to know… that you didn't… kill him…"

Vegeta frowned, his steely eyes staring into hers.

"I did not."

She didn't have time to think before he swept her off her feet, the wind rushing past her as he took to the air, leaving the palace behind.

She remained silent for the first ten minutes of the flight, trying to work out what she wanted to say to him. Did she want to tell him how much his absence had bothered her? Did she need to tell him that she was pissed for him leaving without giving her warning? Should she say she was relieved to find he was not quite as a bad as she had feared him to be, seeing that he had not killed his father, after all?

Finally, she settled for turning her face towards him, her face set in a glare that should have frozen the tropics.

Unfortunately, the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she could not keep her eyes open for long enough in the rushing wind. Vegeta lifted one eyebrow, looking mildly confused. "Something in your eye?" he asked. "You look like a newborn rodent, squinting like that."

"Ugh! You ass!" she yelled, thumping his chest plate angrily. "I'm glaring at you, idiot! I'm not your property! I don't belong to any man!"

Vegeta managed to look mildly affronted at that, grunting and staring straight ahead again. Bulma bit her lip as the silence that followed filled with increased tension; she realized quickly he could have taken that statement the wrong way.

"Look, I'm a modern woman," she stated tersely. He did nothing but grunt again with disinterest, at this she sighed and rolled her eyes, carefully placing her head back in the nook made by his neck and shoulder. With the bruise she had to be careful not to jar her face, but she trusted Vegeta not to make any rough movements with her now.

"On Earth, I'm completely independent," she continued. "I may be an heiress, but I've earned my own keep at Capsule Corporation since the day I turned eighteen. I'm rich in my own right."

"Are you going to say anything that you haven't told me before?" he asked. "Or should I just tune you out now?"

"I had a man on Earth, Vegeta."

_That_ caught his attention. He turned his head sharply, his eyes narrowing at her. "Your point?" he asked, his short temper clearly dwindling even further.

"My point is that even though I had a man, I was still me. I was not 'Yamcha's woman', I was Bulma Briefs; Scientist, Businesswoman, Goddess."

He snorted, his lips twitching slightly in amusement. "You, woman, are not goddess material."

She grinned outright, pleased to have diffused the tension for the moment. "Maybe not, but I'm damn close to it. And with beauty and brains all rolled into one, I have to admit that I'm one of the most perfect Humans you'll ever meet."

"I hope then, for my sake, that I never meet another Human. Again, woman, what is your point?"

"I was never his property. Yeah, I was his partner, and he was mine, and that came with a claim over each other- of course infidelity was not acceptable," she added, in a tone that made Vegeta wonder just what had gone on between the woman and her previous lover, "but there wasn't this idea of ownership, of master and… and _slave_." She wrinkled her nose, looking up at him, blue eyes squinting in the wind. "If I'm your woman, Vegeta, I don't want to be your property. I'm not something that can be traded about. And I'm not something that can be bought. I'm one of the most admired women on my planet; on Earth men have gone to _extremes_ to lay offers of riches and power and excitement at my feet, and they've waited for me to make the choice.

"Don't you see? You brought me here as a prisoner. I… I need to feel like a free person, Vegeta. I need to be free to make my own choice; I won't have people decide something for me. And every time I hear someone call me a whore… it makes me sick."

"So, you wish me to offer you riches? Is that what you're saying?" he asked quietly, eyes trained on the horizon ahead.

"No. I want you to do nothing," she whispered. "Just… just let me make the first move. When I'm ready, I'll let you know."

* * *

"Bulma! What happened?" Dende cried, running forward as fast as his little legs could carry him.

"Nothing major," the woman replied with a faint smile. Dende peered up worriedly at her bruised face, ignoring the scary Prince behind her. "Could you heal it for me, Dende?" she asked, crouching down so that they saw eye to eye.

"Uh… of course!" he replied, lifting up his hands so that his palm faced her. He heard the movement of the others behind him, whispering amongst themselves in Namekian. Shaking his head in a movement that made his antennae quiver, he blocked out the sound, intent on finding the peace within himself; the peace that the Great Elder had once shown him. The peace within was where the healing came from; once he found it, it was simple enough to draw out.

The bruise faded quickly. Vegeta watched with concern as the woman's skin returned to its normal colour; a pale cream that looked so delicate it was if she was made of the finest paper. Soft pink dusted both cheeks now; it was a good sign, she looked healthy.

The Namekians were saying something to him, but he didn't care to listen. Picking her up gently- Gods! She was so fragile!- he held her against his chest, his arms supporting both back and legs.

He took to the sky without a second thought; for there was something he had to do.

* * *

They were not heading back towards the palace; that she was certain of. Instead a great desert spread out beneath them, so that as she peered back over his shoulder, it looked like they were flying over a golden sea, whirls of red lining the crests of the huge waves. She spotted wild creatures sitting atop one of the tall dunes; small black dots like seabirds bobbing amongst the water. The cities disappeared out of sight as they continued, dipping down under the horizon. Even the Namekian village failed to remain visible.

Clutching his back tighter, she sighed, brushing her lips gently across his jaw. It was too late now for escape; he had captured her heart, somewhere along in the crazed events of the past weeks. Sure, she had given him the speech about her freedom, but she was sure that he could tell there was only one choice that she would make.

And boy, did he smell good. Nuzzling into his neck was the only option she had now, now that her brain was fuddled by his masculine scent and strong, steady arms around her. The stress of the day had taken its toll on her; she suddenly felt drowsy, her head twice as heavy as before.

Snuggling closer to the warmth of his body, she closed her eyes, knowing that he would wake her in time.

When she awoke, she found herself still clutched in his arms, although they weren't airborne anymore. Blinking slowly, she sat up, blushing as she glanced away from Vegeta. Even as she turned towards their surroundings she could feel his gaze on her, and longed to know what was going through his head. Nothing showed on his face; he had a knack for putting up a mask that hid his thoughts when he wanted to, and the effect was more than a little unnerving.

"Where are we?" she asked quietly, her voice still croaky with sleep. The suns hung low in the sky, slowly changing their background from the vivid red of the day into the purples of the evening. Sunlight caught on the piles of rocks around them; huge, great stones that were arranged in large, irregular circles every twenty meters or so. Stretching her legs, she slowly unfolded herself from Vegeta's grasp, moving to her feet in order to take a better look. She gasped as she saw what Vegeta was leaning against; he remained sitting, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was seated beside a very big, very crude, and very old stone house.

Stepping back, she glanced around once more, realizing at once that they were within the ruins of an old village. A few houses had remained standing against the passage of time, but most had crumpled under the weight of hundreds of years.

They were no longer in the desert, but the ground beneath her feet was still sandy; a red gold that shimmered in the sunlight. Bulma shivered as she looked out into the distance; forest grew around the village on all sides, but stopped abruptly, half a mile out from the nearest buildings, as if even the trees were too afraid to venture closer onto the ancient land.

_Maybe this is what Dende meant by 'ghosties' that time_, she thought to herself, looking back at the empty ruins.

"The first Saiyans that came to this planet lived in such villages," Vegeta spoke, answering her earlier question. She nodded, lifting a hand to her face to avoid the glare that shone in her eyes, and squinted back down at him from where he sat beside her.

"It's…" she trailed off, searching for the right words. "It's quiet here. I wouldn't call it peaceful, not entirely, but it's got a nice emptiness to it, if you know what I mean."

"Hmm," he nodded in agreement, leaning his head back against the stone. He closed his eyes against the sun, sighing as he did so.

"Go look around, woman," he told her quietly. "It's safe; no one comes here. You need not be afraid of the owners of this place," he added, a small ironic smile curving one side of his handsome mouth, "they're long dead."

"I figured," she mumbled, turning towards the first ruined house. A smile lit her own face as she did so, her eyes traveling over the fallen stone.

As desolate as it was, it was clear that this was _his_ place- the place he came to in order to think.

And he was sharing it with her.

Once the initial creepy feeling passed, Bulma felt quite comfortable in the area. Her scientific mind scanned over the construction of the dwellings that remained standing, noting that if anything, the early Saiyans had been efficient engineers when it came to developing houses. She knocked her fist hard on the outer wall of such a house, and assessing that it seemed strong enough not to collapse at that very minute, she crossed through the threshold, and into the cold, dusty room inside.

It was rather small, considering how large Saiyans were. The floor was bare dirt, strewn with leaves and the half-buried bones of small animals that had died there over the years. A musty smell spread through the entire place, and she coughed in reaction to the dust motes which could be seen floating in the small steams of sunlight that filtered through the thin windows, glittering prettily like little fairies.

She stepped further inside, drawn to the far end where it looked like more recent activity had taken place. The ground beside the wall there dipped in a small hollow, and evidence of fire remained in the charred remains of sticks. Checking over her back again, she shrugged, dismissing the possibility that anyone was here. Vegeta had said the place was empty.

"Oh… wow," she whispered to herself as she crouched down beside the wall, her eyes blurring as she picked up the small, untidy markings scratched in the stone.

'_Prince Vegeta_' it read in uneven handwriting. '_737_'.

She laughed quietly, wiping at the tears that ran down her cheeks. 737 was the standard year in which Vegetasei was destroyed; Vegeta would have been five years old. She had seen pictures of him as a child; one formal painting lined the passageway into the throne room, showing father and son standing side by side. Beside the large trunks of his father's legs, he had looked tiny, his scowl doing nothing to hide the pudgy cuteness that surrounded his youthful features.

Smoothing her hand over the ground, she could see him all too well; a little boy, not much more than a baby, scratching his name in the stone of his ancestors. What had driven him to this place? Had he known he was to go to Frieza?

It was too easy to understand the loneliness he must have felt, even then. Her throat felt constricted with more than dust; and she wished she could have been there for him in all the years between. Despite all the things he had done, she still believed that underneath it all, he was not a bad man, that there was still hope for him, time for him to change. He was a man who had lost his way amongst the bloodshed and immediate need to survive, but surely there was a way for him to find the path again? After all, he was no longer one of Frieza's soldiers. He was restored to his home; he had his title, and his people to fight for.

And once more, Bulma asked herself what she would have done, had she been in his position. If her body had held great power, if her family had been threatened, if it were kill or be killed, what would she have chosen?

She swallowed hard, straightening up.

No; he was not a bad man, underneath it all.

* * *

He had moved by the time she had circled the whole village; he sat now atop a large, pale boulder, unmoving, as if he were carved out of the stone itself.

He had removed his standard armour and cape, so that the taut muscles of his sculpted body stood out strikingly in the dying light of the setting suns; it seemed his whole body was a mixture of light and shadows, his dark hair framed like an angel's in the evening glow. His tail was the only sign of life that came from him; it hung down behind him on the rock, the tip swaying lazily to and fro.

Bulma smiled, recognizing the gesture. Whatever answers he had sought here were found, for he only moved like that when he was relaxed. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief, and instead walked quietly up behind him, lightly placing her hands upon his shoulders. She did sigh then, feeling the immediate warmth beneath her fingers. If she needed any more proof of her desire for him she had it; physical contact with the man now seemed to make her feel as if she were about to melt into a puddle.

All in one movement she felt his tail entwine itself around her leg, and her breasts press softly against his back. They both sighed then, as her mouth found its way to his neck, showering him with gentle kisses.

There was no room for words; they didn't need them, having said so many things- too many things- to each other over the past few weeks. She felt a pang of guilt for having ever yelled at him; the atmosphere of the deserted village seemed to strip years off his face, making him appear like nothing more than a teenage boy, his small, strangely innocent groans of pleasure adding to the illusion of youth.

The boulder was large; wide enough to fit two people across comfortably, long enough so that if stretched out, her feet just dangled over the edge. The stone felt cool under her bare skin, and she shivered, partly due to nerves.

He saw it too- for a moment, he hesitated, his hands pausing where they were, halfway through pulling his underwear off.

"I'm cold," she whispered, afraid to speak loudly now that she was bare to the world. "Come and warm me."

His own clothes gone, he stretched out above her, his arms holding his chest hovering just above her own.

"You told me to let you make the first move," he whispered. "Here's your chance, Bulma."

She reached up to him, and pulled him gently down, their breaths mingling together in the cool evening air.

* * *

It was near dawn when Bulma awoke, moving slowly from the land of dreams into reality. Strangely enough, her surroundings did not startle her, and she smiled, nuzzling into Vegeta's chest, happy with the knowledge that his presence could make anywhere seem like a five-star hotel. The sky was just beginning to lighten again, and the calls of the wild geese, newly wakened, rang out in the distance. Around them the night was silent, in that small space of time just before dawn, where the world was quiet for a moment before the rush of life began once more.

He grunted in response to her movement, his tail slithering to life under the cover of his cape. The stars had long been out by the time they had lain down to sleep in the open, on a small patch of grass within the dead ruins. He had spread the red fabric across the two of them, creating a small pocket of heat beneath the shelter. Their feet still stuck out, but he had wrapped his tail around the base of her legs, the fur and natural Saiyan heat keeping her comfortably warm.

She felt her skin crawl pleasurably now as his tail traced slowly over her backside, lingering upon her own tailbone, before sweeping up her back. She smiled and stretched slowly, enjoying the feeling of flesh on heated flesh.

"Are you awake?" she mumbled quietly, her fingers lightly tracing a scar that cut across his shoulder. She could see it dimly in the grey light; the moon had gone from the sky now, but the suns would soon rise again, in that never-ending pattern that regulated life.

"I am now," came his rasped reply, feigning slight annoyance.

"Mmm," she sighed, turning her neck slightly to see more of the sky. "You know," she began, "I think you're really a big softy. This is really quite a romantic thing to do."

"What? Bringing you out here to rut in the open like some crazed animal?" he replied. "Is that romantic to you Humans?"

She snorted, hitting him reproachfully on the shoulder. "Don't you try to cover your tracks, mister slow-kissing-under-the-stars; you can't go back on last night. Now I know just how mushy you really are."

He made a noise of disgust in his throat, but his arms nevertheless tightened around her, his face burying deep in her hair. He smirked then, teeth flashing as she lifted her head to question him.

"What?"

"I knew you'd make too much noise," he replied, mouth twitching with amusement. "I had to bring you out here to bed you; you're incessant screeching would have kept everyone awake in the palace."

"Screeching?"

"Shh, woman," he whispered reproachfully, and silenced her with a kiss.

It was much later that she traced the line of his nose with her finger, listening to the birds call around them, watching as he lay with eyes closed, the lines on his brow momentarily slackened. The sky had changed slowly from black to a pinky-grey, orange and finally red, and warm sunlight now shone upon them, making long shadows in the grass from the low angles of the two suns.

"We're not too different," she whispered, more to herself than him. Nevertheless, his eyes opened to stare at her, the black pools catching her own gaze with a soft, burning intensity.

"We're not too different," she said again, more loudly, still holding his gaze. "Humans and Saiyans. We're different, but not too much. Not… not for this," she added, her hand waving in a gesture that encompassed the both of them, and whatever relationship they had.

He closed his eyes again, the lines of his face suddenly a little harder. But the curl of his tail, tight around her hand, was answer enough.

No. They weren't too different for this.

* * *

**A/N:** Phew! All I can say now is that I'm sighing in relief, haha. Now, I can get on with the _real_ story (that's right, things have only _just_ begun). And of course, there will be more of all the other characters in the next few chapters; I know this chapter was orientated around only a few characters, but it sort-of had to be that way.


	21. The Sky is Falling

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

**A/N:** As you can see below, I have decided to break this story into parts. It doesn't change anything in any way; it just helps me to structure the story in my mind by doing this. I've gone back and added the title _PART ONE: Walk in the Footsteps of Another_ to the top of Chapter One, and the beginning of this chapter signifies the start of Part Two. There will be a Part Three to this story as well.

I have written the time into the story (only by referece to other events), but just to give you a head start, this chapter begins about 10-11 days after the events in the last one (I have a hard enough time keeping track of the timeline in this fic myself, so I thought I'd better help the reders out).

**PART TWO: You Will Bleed the Same, No Matter What You Are**

Chapter Twenty One: The Sky is Falling

Goku stared out at the black view of space, his eyes travelling slowly over the distant stars. He still found it hard to comprehend that he had taken this journey before, as nothing more than a newborn baby.

He found it even harder to comprehend the fact that he had been sent to Earth- his beautiful, innocent home- to destroy everything there.

He hunched his shoulders in reflex at the thought; since finding out that he was indeed an alien, he had avoided thinking about it too much. Still, every now and then his mind would wander, going over past memories, looking at them from this new perspective. Suddenly he found it so much easier to perceive the differences between himself and everyone else; his sense of smell, the strength, even his crazy hair that never grew.

Part of him was curious about Vegetasei- after all, it was where he had begun his life. But he had met his brother, and had felt the evil in that man that had gone so deep it was imbedded in Raditz's very core. How could he look at people like that, and recognize them as his own?

He never liked to admit that he was scared, not even to himself. But his hands shook as he fumbled at the fabric around his belt, looking for the small hidden pocket Chi Chi had sewn inside.

He sighed briefly as he pulled out what he had been looking for, cradling the tiny object in the palm of his hand. The gold glistened in the fluorescent light of the ship, and Goku swallowed hard to dispel the lump in his throat.

He didn't usually wear his wedding ring. It got in the way while training, so he usually left it at home, or kept it safe in his pocket if he was travelling further away than usual. But now he missed his wife dearly, and longed for her touch. She knew who he was; she could hold him close, and whisper to him, and he would know he was Son Goku, an Earthling, and a good man.

He slipped the band over his finger, fitting it snugly into place on his left hand. He would wear it now, and would not take it off for the Saiyans, when it came time to face them in two weeks. Until then, he just had to remember to punch Krillin with the right arm while training.

Goku sighed again, splaying his hands against the glass. The gold of his ring burned brighter than any of the stars glinting behind the window, and he took comfort from the sight.

He was Saiyan by blood, but his heart belonged to a Human.

* * *

"Something is wrong with you, and it isn't just nightmares," Pae spoke, leaning heavily against the door, her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out."

Bardock grunted, shaking his head so that his hair fluffed out even more than usual, and made a move to get past his mate. He was stopped short by an arm that shot out across his chest, and growled low in his throat.

"Move, woman. I'm not in the mood for games this morning."

"Neither am I," Pae replied, stepping forward so that their noses almost touched, and her eyes could look directly into his. "Now, I heard about your crazy rants, just before the planet was destroyed. People have been talking about it a lot, actually. They say you said you knew Frieza was going to blow up the planet. Explain."

Bardock merely looked away, trying once more to move past the tall woman. She shoved him hard in the chest, her fists balling, ready for a fight. "Tell me!" she yelled. "There's something wrong with you, and I ought to know what it is! I don't like being made a fool, Bardock. What the hell am I meant to say when someone comes up to me and asks what's up with my mate, and I don't have a fucking clue?"

"It's nothing!" he yelled, finally loosing his temper. "Meddling woman, why can't you just leave me alone! I just want my breakfast!"

"It's not nothing! Every night his week you've woken up in a sweat- you think I don't notice? Tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

"_Argh_, fine!" he bellowed, sitting back down on the bed. "Fine, you nosy woman! Just sit down and shut up, and let me get my food! Then I'll tell you!"

Pae snarled, slamming an arm into the wall behind her in anger, her tail bristled and waving with fury. "Don't you call me names, Bardock," she spat out, before storming down the short hall. "Hurry up with it then!" she added, "I don't have all fucking day!"

Snorting, he rolled his eyes, briefly wondering how the hell he ended up with such a maniac. The thought led onto further things, making him smirk at the memories. _Right, that's how._ Shaking his head, he followed down the hall, hoping she wouldn't think him _too_ crazy.

"So let me get this straight," Pae spoke, leaning forward across the small table, her dark eyes staring intently into hers. "You think you're psychic."

"Yes."

"I see," she murmured, leaning back in her chair. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he could see that she was biting her cheeks.

"Pae," he began with a sigh, but it was too late. She doubled over suddenly, barking with laughter, occasionally gasping for breath before the next wave of humour caught her. Bardock remained frowning, his arms folded tightly in front of his chest. "Pae!" he yelled, "It's not funny, all right!"

"Oh, oh…" she said, wiping tears from her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "Oh gods, I know… I know… but…" She broke into another fit of laughter, and Bardock stood up suddenly, slamming the chair hard against the table. It was all he could do to resist the urge to smash it over her head.

"You're a bitch," he told her tersely. "This is big fucking shit, you know. I saw our son."

That made her stop, although she still wheezed a little. Slowly she straightened up, pushing her huge mass of hair back behind her shoulders. She hadn't had a chance to tie it up, yet, and Bardock was suddenly struck by one of those moments, when he looked at her and found himself paralysed by her brash beauty, all muscle and harsh lines. There really wasn't another woman who could compare.

His expression must have worried her, because she was beside him in an instant, her tail wrapping firmly around his. "I believe you," she whispered, "I really do. The story made me laugh, that's all. I can't believe you let your guard down so much… To allow yourself to get hit in the head by such a weak creatu…"

"Yeah yeah," he interrupted, pulling her even tighter against him. "I keep seeing new stuff, Pae. I don't understand it… it's not with people I recognise."

"What do you mean? Eastern Saiyans? Are they in your head?"

Bardock snorted. "You make it sound as if I really am crazy, Eastern Saiyans in my head," he muttered. "No, not Saiyans. People without tails, with different coloured hair and eyes. I only see flashes her and there, but there's blood and fire, and death."

"So?" Pae asked, feeling relieved. "They aren't Saiyans, so who cares. Pease don't tell me you've become so soft you actually _care _about other creatures now."

"Don't be a fool," he snarled in reply. "No... No. But I saw..." he sighed, shaking is head. "I think it might be the Earthlings, they looked similar to the woman who came here."

Pae uttered a low snarl of her own. "_Her_ people can burn," she growled.

"And Kakarot? And his young boy? I saw the kid, Pae; I'm sure it's him. He's small, with freakish looking hair, but he had a tail, and his face... his face looked like mine," he finished quietly. His eyes had been trained on the floor, now they looked up, dark and intense, into Pae's own. "You don't know what its like, to see something, and know its going to happen, and still have no way of stopping it. And to see a kid who has my face, and see him there…" He swallowed hard.

"I wish I didn't know."

* * *

"Darling," Mrs. Briefs called, making her way carefully down the stairs into the basement laboratory, a huge gray room with a roof that reached four stories high. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, the blonde woman sighed in relief. She was dressed in her robe and slippers, the flimsy footwear making it even harder to navigate the narrow steps that led down into her husband's lair.

"Darling!" she called louder, stepping over power cables as she rounded the side of one spaceship, only to come face to face with another of the huge spheres. She smiled as she located her husband- or the rear end of him, at least- protruding out of a cavity made in the bowels of the ship.

"Really dear," she said, moving up behind him, "it's past midnight already, you should come to bed!"

"Hmm?" her husband's voice echoed from within the ship cavity, "oh yes, I suppose so," he mumbled, "I'll just finish this first and…"

Not waiting to hear her husband's response, Mrs Briefs grasped onto her husband's backside in a way that was sure to gain his full attention. His voice trailed off, and she giggled, happy that all the workers had left hours before.

"Really dear," she said again, giving her husband another playful squeeze. "You should come to bed."

"Hmm," he replied, removing his head from the ship. "I think I might just do that."

* * *

Gohan shivered and ducked his head under the covers, not daring to look out. He felt cold, even though his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat; the product of another bad dream. He had been having a lot of bad dreams, lately.

Risking a peek out of the shelter of his bed, he bit his lip, whimpering. Daddy had told him to take care of his Mom, but in the long hours of the night, he wished someone was there to take care of _him!_ He was only a kid, after all, and in the dark he was sure he could see monsters lurking in the corners of his room, even when he knew he was just being silly.

That's what Mr. Piccolo had said, when he told him about the nightmares. Piccolo had said that if there were really monsters, he would have been able to sense them. No sign of ki meant nothing was there.

Still, Gohan didn't like being alone in his big empty room. He tiptoed out, trying not to crash into things, and crawled into his parent's bed instead. His Mom was half awake; she pulled him close and kissed his head, and he snuggled into her soft chest. He liked getting into Mom and Dad's bed, it always smelt like them; a mix between his dad's spicy smell and his mom's homely scent.

This time he could smell chocolate cake on her, and it made his mouth water. She had baked it for Grandpa- he was visiting tomorrow- and had put it away in the high shelf, telling him that he couldn't touch it until Grandpa had some. Mom knew that he could fly to reach the high shelf if he wanted to- he could have easily eaten that whole cake himself, he ate a lot, like his dad- but neither of them had said anything. Just like any normal home, the high shelf was for all the things that said 'keep out of reach of children'.

"What is it then, baby?" Mom whispered, smoothing back the hair from his face. She had cut it herself, plonking a bowl on his head before trimming around the rim, and he hated the new look. But it made her happy, and she thought she had done a good job, so he didn't say anything to her face, even after Dad had laughed at him.

"I had a bad dream," he whispered, already feeling much better now that her arms were wrapped tight around him.

"No matter," Mom whispered. "I'll tell you a story, and then we'll both sleep, okay? How about the one with Chicken Little?" She waited for him to nod, and he could feel her smile where her lips pressed against his hair. "Well, Chicken Little was a very silly chicken, and one day she thought that the sky was falling…"

Gohan felt sleep encompass him; his mother's voice seemed to drift far away, and all his limbs became heavy. There was still something important though, that bothered him restlessly him in the back of his mind.

If Mr. Piccolo knew the nightmares were nothing, why had he seemed so worried?

* * *

Bulma sighed in utter bliss, breathing deeply as the delicious scent of Saiyan tea wafted up from the mug in her hands, the steam settling in a damp cloud around her face. A Saiyan would eat anything, a fact which on more than one occasion had made her feel rather sick, but they did have a love for fine beverages. This tea was one of her favourites- the other being the special wine that Vegeta kept- and she waited impatiently for the drink to cool enough for it not to burn.

In the meanwhile she distracted herself by watching the slow rise of the moon in the early Vegetasei night, the cold light of the lone shape making everything outside look different to it did in the day. The moon was slowly growing bigger, although she could not tell any difference from the beginning of the month. In less than a year, though, it would be full, and the Saiyans would all transform into oozaru. The thought sent a shiver down her spine; she still found it hard to believe that it was possible.

"You are such a noisy creature," spoke a voice, so close that breath tickled her ear, and she jumped, spilling the hot tea across herself, and sending the mug crashing to the floor.

"Shit!" she exclaimed loudly, sucking at her thumb where the liquid had scolded her. "Bloody hell, Vegeta! I know you're a master at sneaking around the place, but do you have to scare me every time? I've burnt myself now! And my clothes are ruined!" She paused to take a breath, giving him time to reply. He merely smirked and folded his arms, making her blood boil with rage. "Are you going to say anything, or just stand there like a big dummy?"

"If you would just pay more attention to your surroundings, woman, then..."

"I am not a Saiyan!" she screamed, wrenching her sodden shirt up over her head with such force that she heard the fabric rip. She didn't care whether it did or not anyway- the tea was made from red leaves, and stained. She already knew this for a fact, because it was the third time she had been caught unawares by Vegeta in the past ten days.

Vegeta's eyes fixed on her chest, murky with thought. She hissed, seeing him lick his lips in appreciation. _Damned if I let him have his way this time_, she thought bitterly.

"It's not my fault I don't have freakish hearing," she bit out, pushing past him, intent on leaving the kitchen unmolested. His tail wrapped around her waist, though, soft and warm against the bare skin of her stomach, and she cursed her damn body for reacting as it always did. Her heart was still racing from the shock he had given her, but her stomach fluttered with nerves of anticipation, a sudden need blooming lower in her, just as her lungs felt suddenly tight in her chest.

Deft hands plucked at the straps of her bra, each one gave way with a small snap, and Vegeta pressed suddenly against her bare back, his arms looping slowly around her, smoothing, cupping...

"The universe is a dangerous place, Bulma," he spoke quietly, his tail pulling her backside harder against him. "You are not on Earth."

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, arching her back in pleasure. "Are trying to tell me to be careful in your cryptic Saiyan ways? You're worried about me?"

He grunted, lips brushing her neck. "You're too fragile," he whispered, his voice sounding almost close to despair, and she felt suddenly as if her chest would burst with feeling. She turned in his arms, digging her hands into his hair. Holding back, she met his gaze, feeling the pull between them, urging her to close that small gap between their bodies.

Leaning forward, she bit his bottom lip, quick and hard, smirking as surprise flitted across his face.

"You know, I'm stronger than you think."

* * *

Bulma stared up at the high ceiling, her chest still rising repeatedly in an exaggerated fashion as her body attempted to absorb as much oxygen as possible. It had, after all, been a rather strenuous ride.

It was the same every time; the touch of his skin upon hers, or his lips brushing gently across her mouth, was always enough for her to forget the rest of the world. Emboldened by such actions, she forgot that she was naked; she didn't think about what they were doing, she didn't care that all she wanted in those moments was to have her desires fulfilled at any cost. Best of all, he was always in the same state as her. She knew her touch roused him like no other ever had; she could see the hunger in his eyes, hear it in the pleading whispers of his voice- the meaning of such sentences still clear to her despite the fact that he spoke in foreign tongues. _I want you now_, his entire being seemed to say. _Now and forever, and I shall never let you go._

But afterwards they would lie apart, and that connection between them would fade away as the air dried the sweat from their skin. And she would suddenly feel shy and exposed, as if they lay within some bubble that would burst at any moment, letting all the horrors of the world flood back in.

Vegeta's sigh brought her out of her reverie, and she blushed, noticing his dark eyes lingering on her. His gaze flicked suddenly to her face, studying her with the reserved air that reminded her of the way in which critics eyed works of art. What would he see in her, she wondered briefly. Would he see beauty, or something not worth his time?

He didn't move as she slid over in the bed and used his outstretched arm for a pillow, picking his tail up gently in her hands so as not to crush it underneath her own weight. For once it hung limp in her grasp, the muscles jelly-like beneath the dark fur, all the energy gone out of it. With a tentative smile she laid it softly against her chest, her fingers stroking softly across the tip. The fur was slightly damp with sweat, beneath this she could still feel the skin blazing with heat. _What is it like_, she wondered, _to have such a thick covering? It must make him so hot!_

As with everything she encountered, the need to experiment, even in these circumstances, itched on the tips of her fingers. She settled for pursing her lips to blow air softly at the fur, a grin breaking out on her face as she watched the hair rise automatically, fluffing up until the tail looked almost twice its usual girth.

"Sorry," she blushed, catching Vegeta staring at her, one eyebrow raised in faint amusement. She glanced away, her hands stilling on the tail. "It's a very interesting... thing," she finished lamely, still avoiding his gaze. She sighed, feeling the awkwardness settle around them again like a fog of cloud. She was suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness, and resisted the urge to cover herself up. _Its still early_, she told herself,_ we'll get more comfortable in time_. Quickly, she beat back all thoughts of Yamcha, not wanting to think of him now while she was in the arms of someone else. It had been awkward with him at first too, but over the months and years…

"You think of it as something separate to me," Vegeta spoke, nodding towards his tail which was slowly coming back to life, curling slowly around her breast like a snake. "But it is just as much part of my body as is my arm or leg. Foolish Human woman, you do not understand Saiyans at all, do you?"

She laughed, shaking her head is dismay. "No, no I don't. I don't think I'll ever understand you arrogant aliens. You're all crazy."

He grunted, frowning slightly as he rolled onto his side, his eyes trained on her midsection as if he expected something to jump out at him from within her stomach. "Are you sure it will work?" he asked, running one hand slowly over the swell of her hip as he continued to eye her body with caution.

"Of course," she replied, laughter in her voice. "Honestly Vegeta, I can't get pregnant with an intrauterine device in place. There's nothing to worry about."

"Hnn," he replied, rolling onto her with a sigh. "You better not. The last thing I need to worry about is a fucking brat running around the place. I can't believe my father is so stupid."

"Hey, it takes two to tango," she mumbled, running her hands down his back and nibbling playfully at his ear. "You can guarantee that your mother had some part in the proceedings too, you know."

Vegeta grunted, opening his mouth to make some sort of rebuking comment, but was interrupted by his scouter, bleeping frantically on the small desk beside the bed. He groaned, lifting a hand to blast the thing, but paused, turning his head to listen.

"What is it?"

"Shh," he hissed, moving quickly off of her. She sat up, grasping the bed sheet to her chest as she watched him stalk across the room, pressing himself flat against the wall near the door, his muscles tense and ready for an attack.

"Vegeta!" came the yell of a deep male voice, making Bulma jump.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Nappa!" Vegeta bellowed, snatching up a damp towel he had previously discarded and wrapping it around himself, before wrenching the bedroom door open. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Bulma moved swiftly up from the bed, clutching the dark sheet to her with one hand as she scrambled for her clothes with the other. Quickly checking to see that she wasn't within Nappa's sights, she dropped the sheet, yanking on her panties and bra with single-minded determination.

Vegeta had moved down the hall; she could hear his voice arguing with Nappa, although she couldn't make out what they were saying. By the time he came storming back to the room she had her shirt on, and was fumbling with the fly on her jeans.

"What is it?" she asked, watching worriedly as Vegeta pulled on his spandex suit and armour in a blur, dressing much faster than he usually did. The line between his brows was deeply furrowed now, his expression somehow inward looking, as if his mind was in a place far away from the present.

Bulma swallowed deeply, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She was all too familiar with that look; it was the look any fighter got, before getting into the ring with a strong opponent. Goku had worn that look the day he fought Piccolo at the twenty-third World Martial Arts Tournament, and had almost died that day.

Finding her hair tie amongst the heap of blankets and cushions on the bed, she tied her hair swiftly, following after Vegeta as he stormed down the hall. "What is going on?" she demanded, her voice rising as she began to feel panicked.

"A ship is heading straight for us," Nappa replied, opening the main door. "You must stay where you are."

"No!" she yelled, grabbing onto Vegeta's arm as he moved to leave. "You might need me yet- I can always hack into the ship's system, if they get close enough. Take me with you."

Vegeta's eyes passed quickly over her in brief assessment. "Fine," he spoke quietly, attaching his scouter over his left ear. "Keep up, woman."

As it was, she almost had to jog to keep up with the men as they stormed down the halls, their strides lengthening to eat up the distance in a shorter amount of time.

"Do you think it's Frieza?" she asked Nappa, feeling more than a little breathless as she did so.

"I hope not," Nappa replied tersely.

* * *

Tienshinhan pursed his lips into a thin line, the crease between his brows deepening as he closed two of his eyes. His third eye, situated in the middle of his forehead, glanced quickly upward.

_Damn. This can't be good._

He didn't like to admit it, but Piccolo gave him the creeps. It confused him to no end that Goku now allowed his son to be trained by the green demon- it was Piccolo and his father, the late King Piccolo, that had always been their greatest enemy. King Piccolo had even killed Chiaotzu before!

Now the demon spawn was hovering directly above, the monster's white cape whipping in the wind. Tien didn't know what to be more nervous about; Piccolo's presence, or the strange disturbances he had been sensing all day.

"Tien," Chiaotzu spoke worriedly, hovering closer to his leg. Glancing down at his friend's small form, Tien sighed, closing all three eyes in a desperate attempt to pause the world, just for one second.

"I know, Chiaotzu," he said quietly. "I feel it too."

There was no denying it. Something or someone was coming closer, coming from _out there_. Something with energy darker than they had ever felt before.

"It makes Piccolo look like a puppy," Tien muttered unhappily as the green man finally descended from the air. "I wish Goku were here."

* * *

"No, no, look," Bulma stressed, pointing to the huge screen in the ministerial conference room. An impromptu meeting had been called, and ministers, as well as the top elite forces and the black-clad authorities had all crowded into the room to discuss a plan of attack. Preliminary data had shown that the ship was about two hours away from landing, so long as it kept up its usual pace, and Bulma could feel the tension that ran through the Saiyans, like a constant thrumming in the air. They were itching for a fight, she could tell, and she was consciously aware of the need to remain calm around them.

However, trying not to raise her voice at in a room full of stubborn, arrogant aliens was far easier said than done.

She took a deep breath, trying to avoid looking directly at the King, whose stare was making her feel more than a little nervous. When she had entered the room, following on Vegeta's heels, most of the ministers had already been present, as had the King. Vegeta had told her to ignore formalities, and she had moved straight to the computer at the end of the room, where the big screen faced the semi-circle table of ministers and the King at its head. As she had passed the Saiyans she had heard them snort, seen their nostrils all flare as if they were predators sniffing game, and had flushed with embarrassment, realising what it was that they had smelt.

Vegeta had caught her eye momentarily, then glanced away, the faintest tinge of pink showing on his cheeks. If the Saiyans ever needed evidence that she was Vegeta's woman, they now had it; they had all obviously picked up the scents created during her earlier encounter with their Prince.

"The screen is blank," she continued, pointing at the computer with passion. "There is nothing there. If the ship had communication equipment, this would pick it up, even if they were choosing to block our signals and vice versa. But it's empty; that ship has no means of communication, whatsoever."

"But that's impossible, every ship is made with communication systems," an elite drawled from the back of the room, crammed full of bodies. "I think your scan lies."

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, hands moving automatically to her hips. "Because I'm pretty sure that you can actually make a ship without that component if you want to, it's not like it's a vital part of the engine- right, Kaiware?"

"The Earthling is right," Kaiware replied, staring at the group of elites that stood in the corner near the door. "I advise that you listen to her."

"Without communication, how the hell did you pull this up, then?" asked Zorn, leaning forward on the desk. He gestured to the screen, which displayed the basic data of the ship. Unfortunately for them, the data held was minimal, obviously the ship was new.

"Well, I was looking at the models you have here, and realised that all ships seemed to have a small transmitter present for identifying ships in emergency situations like this, when communication is down. Obviously it was just a guess to try it out on this one, do you know if this is some sort of standard technology that is always used?"

When none answered, she sighed, staring at the screen. "The good news is that because they don't have a communicator connected to the ship, I doubt they're talking to anyone right now. The bad news is that if they had scouters, well... if they're bad guys, their boss will probably already know where we are," she concluded, cocking her head to the side.

"But they could be friends," she added, turning back to face the Saiyans, butterflies filling her stomach as she thought of who it could be. "If you want to wait and see, let them land first, before you shoot."

* * *

Karo yawned, rubbing her eyes as she made her way slowly back from the palace library. Turning the corner, she came to a stop, gaping at the large crowd of elites gathered in front of her, all milling about in front of the conference room.

Pushing her weight onto the tips of her toes, she craned her neck, just managing to spot a glimpse her father's ruddy-brown hair in the crowd. Looking around, she sighed with a shrug, and decided to try and reach him. She usually hung back from crowds and kept to herself, but she was curious, and wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what was going on, anyway.

"Father!" she called, flinging up a hand desperately as she found herself suddenly crushed between the backsides of two large males. "Arrghmhp!" she yelped, as one of the men took a step back, crushing her even more.

Something suddenly tugged on her arm, hauling her out of the crush of bodies in a dizzying rush, setting her down on her feet. She looked up and gasped in shock, taking an automatic step back as she came face to face with a man that looked like her father, but clearly wasn't, from the darker colour of his hair, the lack of a beard, and the fact that he stood a more than a head shorter than the King.

She stumbled over her own feet, but his hands clamped hard on her arms, steadying her to keep her from falling. Not letting go, he raised one eyebrow, as his dark eyes examined her from head to toe.

She blushed, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks, and winced. She looked terrible when she blushed; unlike full blooded Saiyans, her blood was a dark purple, and blushing caused her cheeks to turn blue. Turning her head, she tried to squirm her way out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

"Stay still, girl," the man spoke gruffly. "Look at me."

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, she complied, daring to gaze back into the coal-black eyes of her brother. She felt rather odd in doing so; before the planet had been destroyed, she had met him only a handful of times, and spoken to him even less. Now the little boy in her memories had suddenly become this man twice her age, a serious expression always present on her face. She hadn't meant to run into him; the truth was that she had been avoiding him completely, having heard the talk of him that made him sound terrifying.

"Are you afraid on me?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching with what she guessed was amusement.

"N… No," she stuttered, swallowing with an audible gulp. "Of course not. You're my brother; to be afraid of my own kin would be ab… absurd."

She wished suddenly that she could hide under a rock at the next look he gave her, his expression indecipherable to her, but clearly dangerous. The lines between his brows deepened as he seemed to stare even further into her eyes. "I wouldn't trust _all_ of your kin, if I were you," he said abruptly, before changing the subject with the question "What are you doing here?"

She frowned herself, wondering what he meant about not trusting family, but opened her mouth to answer him anyway. Before she could though, she was interrupted by another hand on her arm, and looked up in relief to see her father's towering form.

"Father!" she greeted him happily, smiling. "What's going on?"

Her father grunted in reply, frowning at her in the same way her brother had just done. "You shouldn't be here," he growled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I just want to know what's wrong," she appealed, looking up at his face. "Are we under attack?"

"I don't know," he replied, and she bit her lip.

"Be careful then," she spoke quietly, touching him gently on the arm. He grunted again, lifting his head and motioning to someone behind her.

"Take her back to her rooms," he ordered a female guard, "and stand guard there. Keep your scouter on."

Tugged back out of the crowd by the taller woman, Karo twisted to look back at the only family she had left; father and sons' eyes both meeting her golden gaze.

* * *

"Watch what you say to Karo, boy," King Vegeta spoke to his son, now that they were in the privacy of his office. There was still an hour to go before the ship landed; the elites had all moved to the mess hall in order to grab a last minute meal, but he had chosen to eat in solitude, save for the boy's presence. There were things they needed to discuss.

They had hardly spoken since the Prince had made his threat over the alien woman clear, but neither mentioned that incident now. The King knew his son well enough to know he was in no present danger- now that the Prince had made his position clear, nothing else would occur over the matter. _Damn that whore for this blow to my pride._

"What?" his son now replied, leaning against the far wall, a half-eaten loaf of bread in his hands. He took another bite, chewing slowly before asking "Doesn't she know she's related to Zarbon?"

"She doesn't know he exists" the King answered in a growl, "and it better stay that way. The last thing I need is her getting all sentimental about that reptilian bastard; its better to think she's the only one left of her kind."

"She _is_ the only one of her kind," his son retorted, before stuffing his mouth with a number of meat patties. Speaking ability suddenly obstructed, the younger Vegeta grunted, waiting to gulp down his half-chewed food before finishing his sentence. "She's the only half-breed like _that_ that's ever existed."

"Mphm," the King grunted in reply, focusing on his plate.

"She's attractive enough. Any man with a taste for the exotic would want her. More than half the elite males were looking at her tonight with lust in their eyes."

"I know," the King replied tersely. "Stupid girl doesn't see it herself."

"Well of course she doesn't; she's too aware of her deformities to think of her sexual appeal. You'd better find her a mate soon before it begins to cause too much trouble," Vegeta added between mouthfuls of cake. "I'm sure some idiot from the upper class would want a child off her, if only to sire a kid with those eyes."

"She's infertile," the King muttered grimly, leaning back in his chair. "She can't mother children; she's got an uneven number of chromosomes." His son merely stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I didn't realise," he mumbled faintly, before biting into another loaf. "Does she know?"

"No."

"Well you better tell her."

"I know!" the King bellowed, his fist banging down on his desk. "Gods Vegeta, _I know that_, but this isn't what I brought you here to discuss."

"What, then?"

The King sighed, rubbing his temple as if it pained him. "I've made provisions, should Frieza suddenly arrive here. The Saiyan race cannot be compromised like it was last time. If I die, you need to know all the arrangements I've made to keep our people alive."

"You're acting rather melodramatic, don't you think? The ship is not nearly big enough to be Frieza's, and the floor plan the woman pulled up showed that it was definitely not one his troops employ. Its probably just some looser aliens who have no idea what they're getting themselves into by landing here," Vegeta added with a predatory grin.

"You will be King one day, son, whether you or I or anyone else likes it. I want to know that I didn't leave my heir with a kingdom as fucked up as the one I inherited. Sit down and listen."

* * *

The suns had long since set as they gathered in a group in the palace gardens, all eyes trained on the sky. Bulma stood in the back, beside Kaiware, who, despite being pregnant and therefore unable to fight without risking the child, had refused to stay inside. Vegeta stood beside his father at the front, a line of guards surrounding their backs.

She shivered, once again cursing Saiyans and their near-perfect anatomy. While she stood shivering against the cold, her hair still damp, the Saiyans radiated heat, seemingly impervious to the cold. And if it wasn't for their damn noses, with a sense of smell far stronger than her own, she wouldn't have had to have rushed for the showers straight after the meeting. Although she didn't object to freshening up, she didn't like the glances she was now getting. It felt like the fact that she was sleeping with Vegeta was the elephant in the room- which it shouldn't have been, since most of the Saiyans present had referred to her as 'The Prince's Whore' from day one. Snorting briefly, she glared at the backs of the massive Saiyans standing in front of her, their forms nothing more than black shapes as they stood still in the dark.

"Can you see?" she whispered to Kaiware, leaning close to the shape of the small Saiyan woman. The moon was now hidden behind heavy clouds; although a halo of light could be seen in the sky, it did nothing for the objects on the ground.

"What do you mean?" Kaiware replied, not bothering to whisper. "Of course I can. Can't you?"

"Well obviously not; it's dark!" Bulma replied, causing some of the elites to shift restlessly. She saw the black forms moving, and _thought_ they were looking at her, although she couldn't tell. "Don't tell me Saiyans have night vision too," she muttered grimly, turning back to what she thought was Kaiware's face.

Kaiware chuckled lightly, and Bulma jerked suddenly with a small "_eep"_ as something brushed her arm. "Don't" she hissed, hearing Kaiware laugh louder. "That isn't funny! I can hardly see at all out here, you're just a back blob!"

"That's not very practical," Kaiware replied, humour still evident in her voice. "I'm surprised you Humans have lasted so long on your own planet while lacking such basic abilities. So you can't distinguish any of the trees over there, nor the terrain?"

"No," Bulma replied lowly, "We use torches," she added. "You know, _light_."

"Not as effective as being able to see past dark, though, is it?"

"Well it's not my fault," Bulma replied with a huff. "Just great. Another damn thing to make me feel lower down on the food chain compared to you guys."

This time another voice chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to warm the air with humour. Bulma recognised the sound as Nappa and turned, managing to spot his hulking shape, a head higher than anyone else. "Lucky you don't look too tasty then, eh?" he said, chuckling again. "Not enough meat on you to feed a cub, let alone a full grown…"

"Nappa!" Vegeta's voice snapped in the dark, slicing dangerously through the air. "Silence."

The restlessness that moved throughout the group stopped after that, a sense of seriousness descending upon the group of warriors, as their faces all looked to the sky. She had predicted the path of the ship; it was expected to land near the palace. Evidently whoever was driving the thing knew something about the planet- which had set the Saiyans even more on edge. The only other option was that the people in the ship were simply aiming for the palace by coincidence- something she wouldn't put past Son Goku, who throughout his life had fallen into a number of ridiculous situations through no fault of his own- but she didn't voice that thought.

_It's probably not him_, she thought, and firmly shut a mental door on all thoughts that it could be her friends. It was better, she realised, to avoid disappointment if she could.

Straining to see things in the dark, Bulma was pleased when the scouters worn by the others began to beep, signalling the imminent arrival of _something_. The tension humming in the air had begun to get to her, and to have this finally broken, even if it meant they were to face Death incarnate, was better than waiting around in the dark.

"It's coming," Kaiware spoke softly, and Bulma watched as the smaller woman craned her neck towards the heavens. Feeling more than a little nervous, Bulma clutched onto Kaiware's arm, not caring if this contact broke the rules of social conduct Saiyans usually adhered to.

"Afraid?" Kaiware asked her quietly. Remembering that the woman could probably see her clearly, Bulma merely nodded in reply, before turning her head back towards the sky.

She realised suddenly that what she had mistaken for the hum of tension in the air was actually the sound of the approaching ship. Slowly the noise grew louder, and a red glow suddenly seemed to appear behind the clouds. It grew brighter, parting the clouds, lighting them up quickly as a backdrop, the ship still hurtling towards the crowd below.

"It's not going to hit us, is it?" she asked, a rising panic within her rendering her voice an octave higher than usual.

"No, Bulma," Vegeta's voice, calm, deep and familiar, carried over the crowd. "It will land in the desert."

And then it did, shaking the world beneath their feet.

* * *

"_Three hours until arrival on Planet Earth_," the computer's female voice spoke monotonously in the dull red glow of the pod. Jeice grunted, biting off some freeze-dried food before replying to the small blinking screen overhead. "Awright babe," he told the ship computer, still chewing on his food. Swallowing down the last morsel, he yawned, rubbing the accumulated sleep from twenty days in stasis out of his eyes.

"Computer, connect me to the Captain, will you?" he asked, running a hand through his thick mane of white locks.

"_Communication with Captain Ginyu will commence in three… two… one…_"

* * *

Piccolo grimaced as he landed outside the kid's home. He hated dealing with Son Goku's wife; the woman screeched like a banshee every time the child left the house to train. He understood the woman's dislike for him, after all, he had tried to murder Son Goku at the twenty-third Martial Arts Tournament- the day Son Goku married the wench. He did not spend much time around Humans, but he had observed that women were particularly sensitive when it came to their wedding ceremonies.

Today, unfortunately, confrontation with the woman was unavoidable. Something dangerous- more dangerous than the Saiyans- was heading towards Earth, and he needed the kid's strength. It was just their luck that the kid's damn father was off in space.

_As much as I hate to admit it, we could really use Goku's help right now._

He frowned as he watched the woman, _I can never remember her name_, catch sight of him through the glass pane of a window. She scowled at him before scuttling away, her footsteps easily picked up by his ears as she moved through the house to the door.

"Go away," she told him, whispering furiously as she stepped outside. "Gohan is studying! He's already spent an entire year with you; its time he stayed at home here with me! He's my son! You have no claim over him!"

"He's my pupil," Piccolo rumbled in reply, not bothering to lower the sound of his voice. It was better if the boy heard him, anyway. "He has to come with me now, there is a dangerous being on the way; I've already arranged plans with your husband's friends."

"What? No! Gohan stays here! And what exactly do you mean by a dangerous being?"

"I mean a creature is coming that are likely to kill us all. Now move. Gohan!" he called. "Hurry! Wear your gi, there's going to be a fight today!"

"Is it... that feeling?" the little boy asked, emerging through is bedroom window in clothes matching his master's own uniform. "They feel evil."

"They?" Piccolo looked up, scowling at the sky in a vain attempt to see what it was that was coming. Closing his eyes, he let his senses stretch out, shaking his head in disbelief as he picked what Gohan had obviously already sense. "Damn it boy, you're right. There's more than one!"

"Ugh! Don't you use that filthy language around my baby!" Chi Chi cried, clutching her son to her fiercely. "Just go! He's not going anywhere with you, especially if it's going to be dangerous!"

Piccolo stared at her, assessing the possible ways to make her stay quiet. With a grunt, he settled for an observation that was sure to piss her off. "If you wanted weak offspring that ran crying to their mothers for every damn problem, you should have reproduced with a scholar. You married Son Goku; you should have known his kid would be a great fighter."

Stepping forward, he deftly plucked the child from her arms, flinging the boy over his shoulder before she could protest. He took to the sky in an instant, eager to leave the screams of the infuriating woman behind.

"Don't think too much into this," he warned Gohan, who looked pleased to be being carried by his master. "I'm only holding you because I fly faster. The great Piccolo does not do hugs."

Gohan nodded but remained silent, a huge grin stretching across his face.

* * *

Gohan was no longer grinning by the time they flew into a bustling city, meeting Tien and Chiaotzu on the rooftop of a high-rise building. He stuck close to Piccolo, resisting the urge to clutch onto his master's leg. Tien looked serious, his third eye constantly scanning the skies above even as his other two eyes trained on him, greeting Gohan briefly. Gohan nodded in reply, trying not to stare. Tien's eyes were strange enough to begin with; now, with the third one rolling around in meticulous watch of the heavens, they looked seriously creepy.

"It'll be soon," Piccolo spoke, and Gohan craned his neck so that he could see his master's face. "They're even stronger than the Saiyans that took Bulma. I hate to say it, but without Goku, I don't think we have much of a chance."

"If you die, the dragonballs will disappear, and then we'll never get Yamcha back. So stay alive, okay?" Tien replied, giving up his watch of the sky to stare straight at Piccolo. "You're our back up plan, got it?"

Piccolo snorted, his lips curling back in a snarl. "Don't think you can order me around. But don't worry; I'll be doing everything I can to survive."

"Tien!" Chiaotzu cried, and they all looked to the sky, collective gasps filling the air as the firs ships came glinting into view.

"They're the same as the Saiyan ships!" Gohan yelled, watching the dots growing menacingly bigger.

"Stay calm," Piccolo instructed him. "Do not panic, Gohan. You are well trained."

Gohan nodded, but felt himself trembling as he watched the ships- five of them- grow closer. The roar as they sliced through layers of atmosphere was terrifying enough, even before the screams of people on the streets below began. The piercing cries of women and children spread through the air, the deeper yells of men adding to the mix of noise rising in panic from the streets below.

"Maybe we should get back?" Tien asked, shifting nervously.

"No, stay," Piccolo commanded, his eyes on the nearest ship. "This will do."

The first flew overhead, close enough that Gohan felt the searing heat as the wave of trailing air hit them hard. The sound was deafening, and then the building beneath their feet shook as the ship made impact with the ground behind them. He didn't know where to look; the other ships were close behind, smashing into the city with a terrible noise, knocking down buildings as if they were made of paper. Tears began to blur his eyes, and he did grab onto Piccolo's leg then, holding on for dear life.

He remembered his Mom suddenly- _I'm supposed to protect her!_- and he longed to back with her, safe in her arms. Blinking the tears away, he thought he could understand Chicken Little being mistaken, if she ever saw something like this.

"Keep your ki lowered," Piccolo yelled above the noise. "We need every advantage we can get!"


	22. Choices

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

**A/N: **If you go to my profile, you'll find a link to my dA page. I have pics of me cosplaying as Bulma there, plus I update my journal there every month so you can see what's going on, and at the moment I've got a link to a wonderful picture drawn by Mel like Mellow for this story (by the way Mel, I hope you don't mind me writing this!)

Chapter Twenty Two: Choices

Bulma stood close to Nappa, straining on her toes in a vain effort to see through into the dark. Vegeta had flown off as soon as the ship had hit, but the King had paused long enough to turn around and snarl that "_**You**__ women should stay put."_ After the last incident with the King, Bulma was inclined to listen to his orders.

Nappa had stayed with them; in the aftermath of the King's attack on her, Bulma had noticed the large Saiyan hanging around more- he was always on the other side of the halls, or passing through the corridors as she did. She rolled her eyes, wondering just how much Vegeta was paying the man to keep watch of her while she went about her daily business in the palace.

She felt Kaiware shift beside her and turned towards the shadow, reaching out a hand to pat the Saiyan woman's arm reassuringly. She knew for a fact that Kaiware disliked being left behind just as much as she did.

"Thank you for the sentiments, Bulma, but I'm really not interested," Kaiware's voice drawled through the dark. Behind her, Bulma heard Nappa snort in muffled laughter.

"What?" Bulma asked, growing increasingly irritated by the cryptic ways in which Saiyans seemed to speak.

"You're hand is on my breast," Kaiware replied flatly. "Please remove it, or I shall do it for you," she added, threat seeping into her tone.

"Oh! Man!" Bulma yelped, drawing her hand away quickly. "Shit, sorry, I thought that was your arm!" she added to the black shape in front of her.

"Evidently. I see you really are blind in the dark. How pathetic."

* * *

Vegeta landed deftly near the crashed ship, noticing automatically the way in which the nose of the cruiser was half buried in the ground. He grunted, motioning towards it as his father landed beside him, the guards in quick pursuit landing behind.

"Whatever fool is in there has no clue as to how to pilot a ship properly; they can't even land straight."

The King snorted in reply, eyeing up the ship. It wasn't a huge ship; it would carry no more than two Saiyans comfortably, and had clearly been designed for creatures of a smaller stature. And the Earthling's reports, as much as he hated to admit, had been correct- this ship was not one used by any of Frieza's men.

The Saiyan elites all readied themselves for a fight as the door hissed slowly open, red light from inside the ship illuminating a silhouette that stood in the door. The creature stood there in the dark, features hidden by the clouds of dust and steam that still rose around the twisted metal.

Vegeta crouched lower into a fighting stance as he recognized the shape of shoulder guards- just like the Saiyans armour, and that worn by Frieza's men. But he dropped his stance in shock as the creature stepped forward suddenly, into the light of the moon, shining bright through the newly parted clouds.

The dark eyes of the newcomer were suddenly illuminated in the moonlight- as all Saiyans' were- and his tail waved gently behind, in a gesture of reserved caution. Vegeta felt the same sudden lurch that he had experienced when he had met his father again; the recognition of his own blood, the features on another's face so similar to his own. And this man- for he was definitely a man, even with his miniscule height- held himself in the same way as their father, eyes staring directly ahead; proud, and unafraid.

"I have returned home," the newcomer spoke. "Home, to my own people."

* * *

Tarble hoped they couldn't sense his nervousness. It took all his will to stand tall- or as tall as he possibly could- and look them in the eye. It was even harder to control his tail; it wanted to wave around in agitation, fur bristled like mad, but that would not have made a good impression. And he so sorely wanted to make a good impression on his family.

He risked a small smile at the taller of the two men who stood directly in front of him, both staring back with equal looks of shock. His father hadn't changed at all; he still had the same strong build, the same harsh lines in his face that made him look like a true warrior.

His brother though… that was a shock. He had hoped the boy- the man- would be here; the person who he had idolized in his early childhood. His _'Geeta_. But now the small boy he had known was fully grown, and the eyes that stared back at his made him suddenly scared with what he sensed… Vegeta seemed almost _haunted_.

Swallowing down the disturbing thoughts in his head, Tarble opened his mouth, hoping his voice wouldn't shake when speaking. "Father," he addressed the King, before bowing formally. "Your Highness, I am pleased to see you again."

Righting himself, Tarble noticed that this seemed to awaken his father; the man no longer looked quite so shocked. The frown remained on his face, though, as the King stepped purposely forward.

"Tarble?" the King's deep voice rumbled, as the tall man moved even closer still. "What _are_ you doing here?"

"Well, I… I came to see what was going on," Tarble replied, allowing confusion to seep into his voice. "This planet was reported to be destroyed, and the Saiyans… Well I was told our people were basically extinct. I had even seen the pictures for myself! But then my latest reports came back showing the planet…"

"Reports?" Vegeta spoke harshly, surprising Tarble, who had half expected to still hear the voice of his five year old friend. "What reports? Who has this information?"

"No one. None but some of the Roudo elite," Tarble replied, cutting his gaze between father and brother. "And the Roudo people- they remain the fiercest of allies to the Saiyans. They shall not betray…"

"How did they gain such information, then?" the King asked, and Tarble took a big breath, his tail giving away his increasing agitation at being interrogated so suddenly.

"It is my own information!" he replied, louder than he had meant to. Clearing his throat, he willed himself to calm down- he was feeling distinctively threatened, at this point- and speak in an even tone.

"I sent a probe to this area; it was not tracked- the technology I built was entirely secure. I wanted samples from the… _remnants_ in this area. For my own purposes, for remembrance. But the probe sent back images of Vegetasei; how is that possible? This planet was gone! You were all dead!"

The King grunted in reply, waving a hand in dismissal. "That doesn't matter now; you're certain no one knows you're here? There's no way Frieza could have tracked you?"

"No, why? Is Frieza… are the Saiyans no longer allied with the Colds?"

The King's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Tarble in a way that made the small Saiyan even more nervous than he was before. "No," his father replied slowly. "No, we are not." The King then immediately broke into a grin, stretching out his arm as he gestured back behind him. "Come, my son, let us go drink to your return!"

"Well," Tarble replied quietly, wary of the King's abrupt mood swing, "I should like that, but first I need to collect some of my things from the ship. And, oh! My wife; I almost forgot to introduce her!"

"Your…" the King began in surprise, his voice trailing off as he noticed the tiny Roudo standing behind his son.

Vegeta's eyes cut between his brother, father, and the small bald thing that stood behind them. Meeting his brother's gaze, he raised both brows, shaking his head. "_That's_ your wife?"

* * *

"A toast! To the Princes!"

"To the Princes! To the Princes!" echoed the voices of the hundreds that had crammed themselves into the mess hall, cheek by jowl, until every seat was taken, the floors filled with those unlucky but still happy to be squashed within, and the doorways straining with even more bodies, as more and more attempted to insert themselves into the mess within.

Bulma rolled her eyes, even as she held up her glass, saluted to the two Saiyan princes seated on each side of their father on a podium hastily erected in the middle of the mess hall, and took another sip. Beside her, Kaiware sighed painfully.

"They're going to do this all night," the Saiyan woman confided in her, leaning close enough to murmur in Bulma's ear. "The Authorities never get to relax, so when something like this happens," she added, gesturing to the sea of nobles that covered every available seat in the large cafeteria, "they jump on the excuse to get drunk. By the end of the night they'll be toasting to the King's new shoes." At Bulma's smile she shook her head. "You think I'm joking, but just watch. These men are fools. I swear, the male population consists of a bunch of idiots."

"What was that?" Nappa asked, his large feet narrowly missing another Saiyan's legs as he stepped over those who could not find a seat in the hall, but had chosen to cram in anyway. Bulma looked up at the giant Saiyan, grinning sweetly.

"Nothing," she said in her most innocent voice, batting her eyelashes playfully.

"Ha," Nappa replied, setting himself down across from Kaiware. "I don't believe you for a second."

"She's cunning, our Bulma," Kaiware drawled over the noise of the crowd, taking another sip of her non-alcoholic drink. "Of course, you already know that Nappa. It takes more than just a pretty face for aliens to survive here."

Bulma flushed, allowing herself a small smile at the nearest thing to a compliment she could ever expect from the Lady Kaiware. Looking up across the small table, she felt a sudden sympathy for the small female alien who sat across from her, no doubt suffering from a serious case of culture shock.

"Are you ok, Gure?" she asked, leaning forward across the table so that she didn't have to yell quite so loud. They were sat at a four-seater table, directly in front of the podium where the three male royals sat. Bulma was consciously aware of the fact that she sat within the close proximity of all the most dangerous Saiyans on the planet; a table of ministers sat directly behind her, while Zorn sat staring at her broodingly over Gure's shoulder from his seat at the next table.

The little alien nodded her head quickly, her small grey throat moving as she took another nervous gulp of her drink. Bulma tried to smile reassuringly at her, reaching out a hand to pat Gure's own gently.

"It's a bit noisy in here tonight!" she yelled, as another cheer swept through the crowd. "They sure are glad to have your husband back home!"

"Yes!" Gure yelled back, her high-pitched voice barely audible over the general racket.

Bulma nodded, motioning to Gure's plate of food, left untouched. "You better eat it!" she yelled, "Or they will! There's no stopping a hungry Saiyan!"

This elicited the first genuine smile Bulma had seen from Gure, lighting up the small creature's face. Bulma had been shocked to learn that Vegeta had a brother, and even more surprised- as everyone had been- to learn that the younger Prince had married an alien with a rather unorthodox appearance. But looking at Gure now, smiling happily, Bulma could see clearly what had attracted the second Saiyan Prince; Gure had an inner radiance that made her pale grey skin, black button eyes and tiny round face shine like the full moon.

"I know!" Gure replied, looking up at her husband, seated beside his father. "I'm married to one! I can never cook enough food, by the time I've cleaned up the dishes, he's hungry again!"

Bulma laughed at this, feeling her face flush pleasantly as the wine she was drinking began to take effect. Gure was laughing too, her tiny shoulders shaking as she picked up a crumbed goose wing and bit into it with the most delicate of movements.

Feeling the warmth of the crowd, with the cheerful noise rumbling through her whole body, Bulma felt happy to be where she was, seated amongst royalty and elites, warriors and aliens.

And looking around, she suddenly found herself struck with a thought.

She could belong here.

* * *

She still couldn't believe it.

Of all the things Kaiware had been expecting, to see her second son again had been the last. And yet here he was, standing in front of her as an adult. She grinned, not with her usual fake smile that belonged in ministerial meetings, but with actual pleasure.

He grinned back.

"Mother," he whispered now that they were alone, having slipped away from the celebrations quietly, leaving the two other royal men to get drunk and deal with the crowd. "I've… missed you, mother."

Kaiware laughed with surprise as Tarble wrapped his arms around her, in exactly the same way as he did when he was a child. She patted his back awkwardly, still not used to this man who was the same height as her.

"You're too thin," she chided, pushing him back. "You don't look solid enough for a Saiyan."

Shame flitted briefly across his face, before he shrugged, meeting her eyes in the same brash way as his father always did. "I don't like fighting when it isn't necessary," he replied evenly. "You know that mother."

Nodding curtly, Kaiware pursed her lips in vague disappointment. "Well it may be necessary, soon," she replied. "Most of the elite do not know the real reasons why your father sent you to Roudo. He will want to keep it that way."

This seemed to melt away the lingering cheerfulness that they had brought with them from the mess hall. Instead they stood there in silence, eyeing each other up.

"Congratulations," Tarble spoke suddenly, nodding towards her stomach.

"Thank you."

Tarble nodded, the single bang that fell forward from his small widow's peak bobbing slightly with the movement. "I have to get back to my wife now. Goodnight, mother."

* * *

King Vegeta watched as Tarble returned to the hall, laughing with the elites and nodding in thanks to the masses that toasted him as he walked past. For a boy who had never been active in the Saiyan court, he knew how to behave like an obliging Prince.

_But then again_, the King realised, _he's been brought up with those Roudo royalty_.

He frowned, watching the way people's eyes focused on his second son. He could tell what they were thinking; it didn't seem right that Tarble was so small- he had barely any muscle, and was severely lacking in height.

_Kaiware's to blame for that one_, he thought grimly.

He wasn't pleased with the fact that now both his sons had foreign women, either. He had thought the Earthling was bad enough; now Tarble was here with that Roudo that didn't even resemble a female. Worst of all, he had openly declared the thing as his wife.

"You better not get any ideas," he mumbled grumpily to Vegeta, leaning over the side of his throne to whisper in the other man's ear.

"About what?"

"Alien women."

To his surprise, Vegeta laughed, picking up another glass of wine from a servant passing by. "To you, father," he said in a toast. "The most humorous man on the planet." Lowering the level of his voice he added, "I wouldn't touch a female like _that_ with a ten-foot pole."

"Likewise, my boy," the King replied, holding up his own glass. "It's why I'm glad that you'll be King someday, and he will not."

* * *

"Gure?" Tarble asked sleepily, rolling over in bed to peer at his wife's hunched form, hidden under the covers.

"Hmm?" she mumbled in reply, the bed sheets stirring slightly as she moved.

"Who was that woman you were speaking to tonight? The one with the blue hair, I mean."

"I have no idea," came Gure's muffled reply, interspersed with a lengthy yawn. "There were so many people introduced to me, I find it hard to remember their names and what they do. But whoever she is, she's really nice. I like her a lot."

Tarble's lips twitched in a rueful smile. "She's nicer to be around than Saiyans, hmm?" he asked, already knowing the answer would be yes.

Gure's small head appeared suddenly out of the sheets, her small eyes searching for Tarble's form in the dark. Knowing his wife lacked the visual abilities his own kind possessed, Tarble reached out, drawing her closer towards him, the sheets rustling softly as he did so. Tired as he was, the sudden feeling of her flesh against his own made him yearn for her touch, and he found himself with lips pressed against her neck, with no conscious though of ever moving that way.

"I love you, Tarble," Gure whispered to him, her small hands reaching around his head to stroke at his hair. "I don't care if you're a Saiyan; you know that, don't you? I think you're perfect, just the way you are. And I don't think badly of Saiyans in general, you know that too, don't you?"

"I know."

"You don't always have to identify yourself as 'Saiyan', Tarble. You could just be 'Tarble', if you wanted to. I like to think you don't just see me as a 'Roudo'. I like to think you see past everything and all of our differences."

"Oh Gure," he whispered in reply, head pressed hard against hers, as if her mere presence could obliterate all the worries in his mind. "I have always been 'Saiyan'... I can't get away from it. I'm the son of the King of Saiyans... my own blood is meant to represent all that these people are. And on Roudo, Gure, you can't say I didn't stand out. People always knew me as 'the 'Saiyan' there too. There are things about myself that scare me, Gure," he added, so quiet that she almost didn't hear. "Sometimes, I can't help but wish I were different."

"No, I wouldn't change you, not for anything."

He sighed at that, pressing his lips gently against her cheek. "And I wouldn't change you, my dear. Do you know, Gure? You're the only one who has ever made me feel right. When I'm with you, I'm not a Saiyan, and you're not a Roudo... do you feel the same? Are we just two people, to you?"

"Yes," she replied, curling further into her husband's form. "Just two people, without any labels. When I'm with you, we just... are."

* * *

Bulma yawned loudly, not bothering to cover her mouth as she walked back through the dead corridor with Vegeta at her side. Kaiware had been right; the Saiyan's did use the opportunity to get drunk, with most of the elites either dozing in small groups, or sneaking off to partake in elicit behaviour by the end of the night.

She laughed quietly to herself, still feeling the lingering effects of the alcohol she herself had consumed. "I think Vegetasei's going to experience a baby boom because of this," she whispered, nudging Vegeta on the shoulder.

"What?" Vegeta replied, looking momentarily confused. He frowned, blinking at her with exaggeration. "What will Vegetasei experience?"

"A baby boom. You had a lot to drink tonight, didn't you?" she asked, snagging her arm around his. He grunted, but didn't resist the close contact, instead allowing her to lean her head lightly against his shoulder as they walked.

"I was obligated to drink with the well wishers. My father is in a worse state than me," he added, adding his own yawn to the mix. Bulma watched as his face lost the relaxed look he usually carried while under the influence of alcohol. "I did not expect to see my brother again."

"Is that why you never told me about him?" she asked, tightening her grip ever so slightly as they turned another corner. "Ugh," she muttered, screwing her nose up as they came across a man and a woman lying naked within one of the common alcoves, their limbs entwined together. The red curtain that had covered their escapade had come free from its hangings, and now lay crumpled by their heads, failing to hide anything in the artificial light that shone from the numerous chandeliers within the corridor.

"Leave them," Vegeta ordered with a tug, pulling her along as she dawdled. "They'll find their own way to their beds soon enough. I know I want to get back to mine."

"Mmm," she replied, pressing herself closer to him. "Ugh, I'm tired. Can't you just carry me the rest of the way?"

"You have legs, woman."

"And you have big strong muscles. Put them to use for once."

At this she received a dark glare, and laughed as he growled low in his throat. With a sigh she resigned herself to walking at their slow pace, allowing him to lead the way. Her head felt far too fuzzy to navigate the palace tonight.

She still had questions she wanted answered- why there didn't seem to be any communication equipment on Tarble's ship, and what the younger Prince was even doing out in space. Kaiware had never mentioned him, and yet tonight had been the happiest Bulma had ever seen her. Things weren't making sense, but Bulma realised that half the problem was the fact that it was long past midnight, and she was in serious need of sleep.

Leaning heavily into Vegeta, she breathed in his familiar scent, feeling a pleasurable warmth blossom within her once more. "Take me to bed," she murmured, not knowing whether it was sleep or sex that she wanted more.

She closed her eyes as warm arms seemed to envelope her, and then she was floating, being carried by the wind. From far away, Vegeta's chuckling came to her, a deep, throaty sound that seemed to echo in her very bones.

And then there was a bed, her body melting instantly against the cushy mass.

Sleep had won out.

* * *

The old Ox King arrived at his daughter's home to find her in a state of panic, rifling through her bedroom closet, throwing clothes about the floor as she continued to search for something.

"Chi Chi," he began in his rumbling voice, "what's the matter now? Is Gohan off training again?"

"I can't find it!" she hissed, ignoring her father. "Damn it, I know I left the ammo somewhere!"

"Ammo?" Ox King asked, growing increasingly worried.

"Yes, Dad," she huffed, pulling out another armful of clothes. "Ammo, for the gun."

"But..."

"I'm not going to put up with it any longer, Dad," she continued, grunting as she reached into the closet again. "This is the last time! Next time Piccolo comes over to take my baby, I'll shoot him!"

The Ox King shook his head and sighed, realising there was nothing he could do when Chi Chi was in one of these moods. "I didn't even know she had a gun..." he mumbled to himself, his daughter's double bed sinking under his enormous weight as he sat down.

He could have pointed out that a gun would never work on Piccolo, but seeing that his daughter was now brandishing a weapon that was still extremely effective against Humans, he decided not to push her. Years of experience had taught him the only way to deal with Chi Chi was to let her calm down first; until then, she'd act more feral than her husband ever was.

* * *

Piccolo frowned, scanning the streets below for any signs of trouble. Humans were panicking, running away from the fallen buildings and massive craters, but there were no ki blasts, no attacks. Something wasn't right; he had expected the aliens to begin massacring the people below, instead, they seemed merely to be gathering in the centre of the city.

"Stay here," he ordered, "and remember to keep your ki to a minimum. We don't want them to know we're here, and I'm almost certain they'll have the same devices that the Saiyans had."

"You can't confront them on your own," Tien replied with hostility, "You'll die. You need us."

"Fool!" Piccolo snarled back. "We'll all die if we confront them. I have hearing abilities far beyond that of you pathetic Humans; I'm going to listen to what they have to say. They should have started attacking by now, it's been half an hour at least since they landed."

* * *

Recoome grinned and waved at the group of natives staring at him from a distance, not bothering to stop the piss he was doing on the corner of a building. The females in the group screamed; two of them ran, the other fainted, and had to be dragged away by a pair of shaking men.

"Shame," he mumbled to himself, putting his lower region back out of sight. "That lady was pretty, but I don't like 'em when they're knocked out." Walking back over to the rest of the team, he found the other men preoccupied with the same thoughts.

"Oh, come on captain!" Jeice whined, "We haven't been on a planet with actual chicks in six months! Can't we have some time for fun before we start looking for Vegeta?"

"No," Ginyu replied, without enthusiasm. "I'd say yes, believe me, but Lord Frieza is very anxious to find Vegeta. Once we get what we're here for, we'll have time to play. Besides, there were females on Fopon."

"Pfff, maybe you consider those to be females, but I sure don't," Jeice grumbled, earning him a hard stare from the captain. Ginyu cleared his throat, turning his back to the team in order to survey the sky. Pulling out a small controller, he entered a series of commands, watching as the five pods they had arrived on took to the air once more, hovering above the city.

"Are we going to park the ships somewhere else, Captain?" Guldo asked, straining his fat green neck- almost non-existent under his rolls of chin- as he looked up at the tall Captain. His four eyes squinted in the sun, unused to being in such bright light after the darkness of space, and blinked repeatedly, reminding the Captain suddenly of frogs.

"I don't think what we need is here in this city," the Captain replied in answer to Guldo's question, "We'll take the ships someplace else. All right, Zarbon and Dodoria arrive tomorrow; they'll take on the lower regions, if we haven't found Vegeta by then. Jeice and Burter, you take the east. I'll go north, Recoome and Guldo go west. Ready?"

"Yes, Captain!" the team saluted, moving into position. Ginyu spun around at this, while each man twisted into his own pose.

"Gin-yu FORCE!" they cried in unison, showing the greatest pride in their presentation, and the fact that they were the most graceful squad in the Cold Empire.

* * *

From behind a bridge, Piccolo watched as the aliens took to the air, his eyes narrowing to a glare as he followed the leader's path into the light of the sun. _They're a bunch of fools. Powerful fools, though. This could be trouble._ Squinting, he almost missed the Captain's actions, but his hearing picked up the slight change in the air as the alien stopped mid flight. Dread suddenly filled his gut as he looked up at the building where Gohan and the others stood.

_Too far. They're too far away._

* * *

Tien took a step back in shock, all three eyes darting between the little half-Saiyan boy, Gohan, who continued to peer up at the alien in the sky, and Chiaotzu, who's hand still clutched nervously at his leg. Chiaotzu's eyes met his, insistent as the telepathist's voice ran through his head.

"_Save Gohan,"_ Chiaotzu told him. _"He's more useful in the fight. He's younger too; he needs to live. I've lived enough."_

Tien shook his head wildly, too panicked to reply in either verbal or telepathic communication. He looked to the sky again, watching in terror as a great purple ki blast was released from the alien's hand, cutting through the air towards the city in which they stood.

"_Tien!"_ Chiaotzu's voice spoke again. _"Save him!"_

Tien looked again, panicked, feeling sick. A second. A second was all he had to choose between Son Goku's son and his own best friend.

"Forgive me," he spoke aloud, grabbing Chiaotzu by the arm and pulling him in one swift movement.

Crouched behind the building, his body shielding Chiaotzu's, he shut his eyes and reached his thoughts out, further than he ever had before.

"_Forgive me, Goku."_

* * *

Krillin grunted as a fist grazed his cheek, stumbling a little over his footing before righting himself. He breathed hard through his mouth, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. He looked down, frowning at the red liquid now smudged across hand and arm.

Blood.

Goku was definitely stronger than he had ever been before. That year of training in otherworld had somehow multiplied the distance between their two powers, and Krillin realised with anguish that he could no longer ignore it. Goku was the stronger of them, and he'd never catch up now.

_At least I have an excuse_, he thought in bittersweet disbelief. Seeing Goku crouch in front of him now, his childhood friend's eyes glimmering fiercely- enough to make him scared, had he not complete trust in Goku- was all it took to highlight their differences. Circling each other, Krillin wondered why none of them had figured it out before, but then again, it wasn't ever day that one assumed their best friend had originated in space.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Krillin jumped forward, swinging his right fist towards his target, already knowing that it would miss. For the last two hours he had been trying to hit Goku.

He hadn't landed one punch.

Something happened in the last moment. Goku froze, his eyes widened in surprise and horror, and then Krillin felt the crunch of a nose breaking under his knuckles, the sickening sound reaching his ears as Goku's head snapped back, the larger man's body following close behind as it crashed into the ship's wall. Krillin stood still for a moment, his own eyes wide as he processed what had just happened.

"Goku!" he cried suddenly, reaching his friend in an instant and helping to sit the Saiyan up. "I'm really sorry man, I didn't mean for it to be that hard... I guess I don't know my own strength! Goku?"

The Saiyan man frowning at the side of the ship, ignoring the blood that poured from his nose. Krillin gulped worriedly, hoping he hadn't done any serious damage. Goku was acting pretty dazed.

"Goku?"

Piccolo saw it in slow motion; the way it lit up the ground below, shining in the windows of the buildings still standing, the heat melting metal and the skin of humans alike. He reached Gohan on the roof, slammed the boy down and covered him with his own body, protecting the child who, he realised in those last moments, was like a son of his own.

_What a way to die_, he thought suddenly, _protecting Son Goku's son, of all things…_

The air caught light, searing his lungs, burning his eyes, clothes and skin. Crouched on the rooftop, Piccolo did the noblest thing he had ever done.

He saved a life.

"Tien," Goku spoke quietly, still frowning at the ship's panelling as if it held the key to the universe. "Tien!"

"Goku!" Krillin yelled in response, shaking the man. "It's Krillin!"

And suddenly Krillin didn't know what to think, for too many thoughts were going through his head at once. Relief, because the intelligence in his friend's eyes showed that he hadn't seriously hurt the man. Fear, because that same look meant something bad; something really, really bad.

"Tien spoke to me, in my head," Goku said quietly. Krillin swallowed nervously, grinding his teeth together. Goku hadn't used that tone of voice since the day they told him Bulma was kidnapped.

"What did he say?"

"Forgive me, Goku," the Saiyan man replied flatly, turning to frown at the ship again. It took a moment for Krillin to realise what Goku was doing; it was not the ship he was frowning at, but what lay beyond. In the direction Goku peered lay Earth, and with it their friends and family.

"I can't sense them. I can't sense them at all," whispered Goku's voice, filled with more despair than Krillin had ever heard before.

"Who?"

"Tien. Chiaotzu. Piccolo." Goku swallowed with a grimace, shaking his head as if it was too much to speak. "Gohan," he finished, his voice cracking on the last syllable.

Krillin frowned again, mimicking Goku's earlier stance as he stratched out his own senses in search of ki on Earth. He gasped as the wave hit him- something evil, really, really evil, was on Earth.

"Oh man," he whispered, his usual voice escaping him. "it must be Frieza."

* * *

"_Breaking news, as an earthquake just shocked millions across the globe. The epicentre of the quake is believed to be Ninjin City, where a huge mushroom cloud was spotted immediately after the quake shook. Joining us now is Jonathan Flash, who is filming at the quake centre now. Jonathan, can you tell us what has been going on?"_

Dr. Briefs watched as the television cut to a view of an empty desert plain, bereft of any life. In front of the camera stood the typical reporter; mid thirties and fairly handsome in suit and tie, with a microphone held just below his chin as he spoke in a serious manner, eyebrows always furrowed in a frown. The Capsule Corp. scientist switched his attention from the scene behind the reporter to what the man was actually saying, leaning forward with worried interest.

"…_aliens again. Authorities are asking people not to panic, but to be prepared to take shelter in underground bunkers if need be. If aliens are indeed the cause of the explosion which has destroyed the city behind me, they may be the same beings that kidnapped Bulma Briefs a few months ago. The reason why Earth is being targeted is still unknown, but government officials from around the globe are meeting tomorrow to discuss various plans of action._

"_If you see any odd looking people, they may be aliens. Call this number; 5555 ALIEN, that's 5555 25436, so that officials can gather information on just what might be out there."_

"_So Jonathan," _the female reporter in the studio cut in,_ "Is the city behind you really destroyed?"_

"_Yes. As you can see, everything is gone."_

Capsule Corporation's head switched off the television, leaning back in his custom-built chair as he pondered the situation silently. He had always made money from his hunches- it was why he always had the best products on the market; he had a knack for developing the right products at the right time.

Now, it seemed he had been right about something other than Capsule Corp. technology.

The only thing to do now was to stay ahead of the game.


	23. The Sun Beats Harshly

**A/N:** I know it has been ages since my last update (so sorry!). In that time a lot of changes have happened in my life, which happens to be one of the reasons why it's taken me so long to get back into writing this fic. For starters, I'm now married and living in my own 'lil home. So a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story so far!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

* * *

Chapter 23: The Sun Beats Harshly, but the Darkness is Worse

"Nnnnnggggg," Gohan groaned, pushing whatever it was crushing him off his back. He kept his eyes clenched shut, focusing on his breathing like Piccolo told him to in times of pain. He was in a lot of pain now- his knees and hands hurt, his skin hurt, his head was pounding and he couldn't hear properly; his ears were ringing too loudly.

It hurt to breathe.

Slowly, he cracked open his eyes, wincing at the light that suddenly seemed so bright. He gasped in shock, not understanding what was going on, not knowing where he was. A desert. He was in a desert.

Something groaned beside him, and he jerked, looking wide eyed at the fallen form of his master. Recognition flickered in his eyes; he remembered now, they were in Ninjin City. They _were_ in Ninjin City, but the city was gone now.

"Piccolo!" he cried, his voice finally coming back to him. Motor skills not far behind, he reached out, pushing desperately on the green man's shoulder. "Piccolo! Wake up! _PICCOLO_!"

"K… kid," the Namekian croaked, making Gohan sob. Tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't care; all he wanted was for Piccolo to be better.

"Sen… zu. Roshi. Hurry, Gohan," Piccolo continued, his eyes clenched shut. "Not much… time."

Gohan nodded rapidly, all thoughts of controlled breathing forgotten. Panicked as he was, he was close to hyperventilating, sweat dripping off him in rivets as he got shakily to his feet.

Dad had told him stories of senzu beans and their magic powers; he had even shown him one after he returned from the dead. After Dad had decided to go to Namek, everyone had agreed that old man Roshi was the best person to leave the senzu beans with, in order to keep them safe. But the island was a far way away; Gohan spun around, hurriedly trying to gain his bearings. The martial art master's ki finally located, Gohan began to run, ready to take off.

Sighting something unusual, he skidded to a halt, peering anxiously at a twitching hand that lay protruding from a pile of rubble. "Oh no," he whispered, hurriedly digging into the pile.

The hand belonged to Tien.

Tien and Chiaotzu both groaned as Gohan pulled them out, but neither of them woke up. Gohan knew this was bad; Dad had given him first aid lessons before he left. Tien was bleeding a lot too; way more than Mr. Piccolo was.

"Please stay alive Mr. Tien!" Gohan pleaded, wrapping slivers of his torn gi around the man's most serious wounds. "I'm going to bring medicine! I promise!"

Leaving the fighters in recovery positions like his dad had shown him, Gohan readied himself to take to the air. He paused, though, a strange feeling in his gut telling him that was a bad idea.

"But I have to hurry!" he cried to himself, looking back at the injured fighters. "I can't muck around anymore!" He winced again at the pain coming from his throbbing left arm- the crusted wound on his small bicep oozed blood that dripped down to his wrist guards- and hesitated, hovering just above the ground, looking at the sky and wracking his brains for the reason why he shouldn't fly. There was _something_ Mr. Piccolo had taught him, but he couldn't remember it.

"_Your uncle wore a device over his eye, Gohan," _came his master's voice, brought forth from memory. _"It read the ki of other creatures. It was how he found you and your father. Even if an enemy does not have such a device, there are other ways to track people. I will teach you how to sense ki. You must always keep your own ki hidden from the enemy, Gohan. If they are stronger and they find you, you will die."_

"My ki!" Gohan exclaimed with relief, now that he remembered what he was supposed to do. He would have to keep his ki low, so that the aliens couldn't sense him.

Setting his face in a determined frown, he made his decision. For now, he would have to run.

* * *

Master Korin, the oldest of martial arts masters- discounting Kami, of course- frowned down at the world from his place on Korin's tower. The fat white cat didn't look like much, but his odd appearance hid the power that had once been considered great, and the quick mind that had been used to outsmart many opponents in the past.

But now the cat was witnessing a greater power than any other that had graced the Earth before. Five monsters were ravaging the world below, and he could sense that two more were also heading for the planet. Earth's warriors had prepared for Saiyans; instead they got an array of creatures never before seen, with far more power than any of the Saiyans.

"Whaddya think will happen?" Yajirobi asked, the fat samurai moving to stand beside Korin.

"I can't see anything but death," the cat replied. "Not even the boy is strong enough to defeat these ones." With a sigh, he lifted his furry arm, beckoning to the small nimbus cloud that floated beside the tower.

"Go to your master's son," he told the cloud. "Gohan needs your help."

The yellow cloud turned and sped off, disappearing into the horizon. Yajirobe's eyes did not reach that far, and the samurai turned away in disinterest.

Korin remained in his place, his sad eyes following the path of the cloud. For once, there was nothing else he could do.

* * *

Chi Chi paced back and forth within the confines of her small living room, her eyes darting every so often to the screen of the television. A second earthquake had shaken, the epicenter originating this time in a different location, just over an hour after the first. Although she left the news on, she didn't need reporters to tell her what was happening. She already knew.

"Something's gone wrong, Dad," she whined, turning once more to face her father. "If they were fighting, those aliens wouldn't be destroying entire cities! Where is Piccolo? Where's my baby?"

Not allowing the Ox King time to answer, she stormed over to the phone, wrenching the receiver off the hook with one hand, dialing quickly with the other. "Pick up!" she screamed down the phone as it rang, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Where's Gohan?" she snapped as Roshi answered, not bothering with the usual greetings. "Where's my baby? You can sense them, can't you? Tell me where he is!"

"_He was just here_," came Roshi's aged voice. "_He took the last senzu beans back with him to Ninjin City; Piccolo, Tien and Chiaotzu were caught in the blast there. Gohan's okay, Chi Chi. You don't have to worry about your son; he's a strong boy. You should be proud of him_."

"You let him go _back_?" Chi Chi screamed, making Roshi jump at the other end of the connection, "You let him go back out there, when there's _aliens_ around? What the hell is wrong with you? He's five years old!"

"_Chi Chi, he's Goku's son. There's no one better equipped to deal with this than him. Besides, it sounds like the boys were in bad shape. Gohan still might not get the senzu to them on time_."

"_I don't care_!" she cried, her face turning red with fury. "He is my _child_! He shouldn't have to be responsible for them; he's only a little boy!"

"_Chi Chi_…" Roshi began, hoping to placate the raging woman.

"No! If something happens to Gohan, I will _never_ forgive you Roshi! Never!" Slamming down the receiver, she scooped up her father's car keys, throwing them to the waiting giant in one swift motion.

"Start the engine, Dad," she told him, throwing bandages, water and food in a capsule bag. "We're going to Ninjin City."

The Ox King opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. There was never any point arguing with Chi Chi; he'd just end up agreeing with her anyway.

* * *

Gohan crouched low atop his father's nimbus cloud, holding his breath as they passed directly above one of the aliens. The foreign creature, with his dark blue skin and funny shaped head, didn't seem to notice them as nimbus continued across the sky, slowly rising in altitude in order to avoid detection.

Gohan sighed in relief when they were a safe distance from the alien, but he still pressed himself flat against the soft cloud, trusting that he would remain hidden even if the alien looked. Peeking a glance back, he could see that the alien was searching the city below, flying slowly back and forth above the city.

_What do they want?_ Gohan asked himself. _They're looking for something with their ki-thingys. They must be looking for a powerful fighter; maybe they want my dad!_

Gohan grunted, shifting until he lay comfortably on the cloud. His wounds were mostly healed, although he still felt weak, due to the small piece of senzu bean that the old master Roshi had convinced him to eat. There were only three beans left, and each of the injured men needed one, but Gohan had agreed to eat the tiny sliver that Roshi had cut off for him.

"_You have to,"_ the old man had ordered him. _"Your father would say the same thing, if he were here."_

Reluctantly, Gohan settled himself down for sleep. He needed to rest; rest was as important as training, Dad said.

"Wake me up when we get there, Nimbus," he mumbled, folding an arm over his eyes. Within minutes, he was dead to the world.

* * *

Tien cracked one eye open, groaning in pain. Logically, he knew help was coming; Goku's son was somehow alive, and had rescued him, he knew that much.

But with overwhelming pain, he felt tempted to just give in. He could feel it there, a black void in the back of his head, in the back of his very soul. If he gave in to it, went towards it, the pain would end.

But so would his life.

"Piccolo," he croaked in an effort to distract himself. "You still there?"

"Mmmngghhrrr," came a grunt from somewhere behind him. Tien managed to twitch his lips in the faintest semblance of a smile, strangely happy to hear that his unlikely ally was still alive.

_The damn bastard's practically immortal_, he thought to himself, _Piccolo always manages to survive somehow._

"_Tien,"_ Chiaotzu said faintly through their telepathic connection. _"Tien, I can't hold on much longer."_

"You have to," Tien spoke aloud, his voice sounding like something akin to sandpaper. "You have to, Chiaotzu."

"_But it hurts. I'm so thirsty, Tien. I just want to sleep."_

"No. Live. We have to live."

The wait seemed like an eternity for the three warriors. The pain was unbearable, the thirst was unbearable, and the cruel sun beat down on their already burnt skin. Tien and Piccolo were in the worst conditions to begin with, but Chiaotzu's pale skin was now quickly burning in the sun, and his small body losing a dangerous amount of the vital water he needed to survive. Cold climates suited Chiaotzu; it was why they chose to train in such regions, most of the time. Tien knew the weather here was only going to harm his friend even more.

With each minute passing, death became more appealing. And yet there was something that held the three back from the brink; perhaps it was a sense that there was something more to do in this life, or that they wanted a better death than this one. Anger fuelled them, helping to keep those hearts beating. How could they leave this world, without having the chance to retaliate? They had to kill those alien bastards, for what they had done.

When Tien next cracked his eyes open to see a small cloud hovering directly above his head, he thought he was hallucinating. Either that, or he was already dead; Chiaotzu had once told him Heaven was made up of an abundance of yellow clouds.

But a small twitching arm, carelessly thrown over the side of the cloud, jarred Tien's senses back to life. It was the kid; he was back.

"Hey," Tien croaked in a hoarse whisper. "Hey… Kid."

He waited, but the arm remained still, the peaceful sound of snoring coming from atop the cloud.

_Shit._ "Hey!" Tien croaked, straining his voice, his lungs, in the effort. "Kid! Gohan! Hey!"

The boy remained still, exhaustion from his efforts having drained all of his energy. Tien braced himself for the pain that was to follow, then tried to push himself up onto his elbow, his right arm straining to reach Gohan's dangling one.

It didn't work; he couldn't reach. He grunted, dragging himself across the ground to reach a small rock, his entire chest burning from the effort.

Pulling forth the last reserves he had, he hurled the rock at the small boy dozing on the cloud. It hit its mark with a dull thud, the boy startling suddenly awake with the blow.

Tien grinned, before his three eyes rolled up and back, his energy truly spent.

* * *

It was still dark when Bulma's eyes sprang open, adding fuel to the fire of her panic that had first surfaced somewhere in her dreams. Her heart beat at a quickened rate as she groped for the sheets- once more down around her ankles- blindly searching the room for something she recognized.

It took a moment or two for her to realize that she was within Vegeta's quarters, lying in the room she had first taken when she arrived on Vegetasei. With a small pang she noticed that Vegeta was not lying beside her, but the mixed feelings that this brought up were quelled by the sheer relief of her escape from her cold nightmares.

Her dreams were too faint to remember now; try as she might, she could not gather her memories of them clearly. All that remained was a feeling of cold dread, a gut ache that said_ 'something is very wrong'_.

In an effort to rest once more, she rolled over, listening to her own heartbeat that still pounded loudly in her ears. Never a good companion for sleep, the sound seemed to echo around the room, making her feel uncomfortably nervous.

The night seemed to drag on; a lone beast- one of Vegetasei's large dogs, she guessed- screamed in the distance, while closer outside she heard the sudden yell of a guard in the garden, and a flash of light lit shadows through the windows, before all fell silent again.

Bulma held her breath, gripping the sheets in an attempt to grip reality. Something had happened outside- the flash had been from an energy blast- but there was no other signs of a scuffle. She wondered if there was someone creeping outside her room now; she watched the faint shadows that appeared on the curtains, her body tensing as she thought she saw the shape of a man.

In the night little things like shadows can seem far more terrifying to anyone. For a woman held hostage on a foreign planet, the paranoia that builds slowly in the dark is even more difficult to avoid. Taking stock of the situation, and the fact that she was working herself into a panic over imaginary noises, Bulma jumped out of bed and used the only weapon she had: light.

Still not satisfied, she moved through all of Vegeta's quarters, switching on the lights in the halls, in the spare rooms, and in the kitchen. Though not a rational plan if there really was a killer outside her window, the light gave her comfort and a sense of safety, and with this returned her logic; Vegeta was in his room, and he would surely come to her aid should anything dangerous suddenly occur.

Warm drink in hand, she stepped into the living room, switching the lights off as moved. The first hint of daylight was beginning to appear on the horizon, the pinkish glow making her feel far calmer than before. She decided to sit on the expansive couch at the window, letting the last light of the setting moon cover her as she sipped her tea and stared at the fading stars and the darkness that lay beyond them.

And it was from this darkness that she had come; the Earth's sun was too distant to be seen with the naked eye from here, but she looked in its direction, pretending that she could see it anyway. All her protective shields falling away, she suddenly felt very lonely. She missed her home.

For once Vegeta's sudden appearance didn't startle her. Rather, it was as if she had drawn him to her. She didn't say anything as he sat down beside her, his own tea in hand, but shifted slightly so that she could lean back against the warmth of his bare chest, feeling safe.

"I miss my home," she confessed in a wavering whisper.

Vegeta did not move, but his rich voice was comfort enough, as if the deep rumble wrapped her in a hug.

"I know."

* * *

"You did good, kid," Piccolo spoke, his voice breaking the strained silence that had surrounded the warriors since their revival from the brink of death.

"Yeah," Tien added with a sigh, all three eyes frowning at the ground as he focused on kicking a pebble with his toe. "Too bad we probably won't be around for too much longer; I don't think even Goku could beat _that_ guy."

Chiaotzu opened his mouth to dispute the comment, but was interrupted by the sounds of a rumbling engine, and the shrieks of a mother pushed to her limits.

"Mom!" Gohan yelled in reply to the noise, waving his arms widely as the red dot in the distance grew larger, the shape of a car and two passengers slowly becoming discernable. "I'm here!"

Piccolo winced as the woman screamed in reply, resisting the urge to blast her dead. The noise she made was infuriating, but not even he would dare to attack the kid's mother- something like that would unlock the boy's potential for sure, and would incur the wrath of both father and son.

The Ox King looked abashed as the car skidded to a halt, the female driver leaping from the seat before it was really safe to do so. She enveloped Gohan in a fierce hug, her tone moving effortlessly between scorn and joy and back again as she growled at him for fighting, then commended him for being so strong. "My baby!" she cried, pulling the boy onto her lap, "I'll never let you go!"

"But Mom," Gohan whined, squirming against Chi Chi's grip, succeeding only in getting her hair wrapped firmly around his face.

Feeling unusually sympathetic towards the boy, Piccolo took this moment to intervene, tearing the kid from his mother's grasp while declaring that it was time to act serious.

"You!" Chi Chi snapped in reply, "How dare you put my baby in danger like that!" She leaned forward, straining on her toes in a useless attempt to look taller. "He is _my_ _son_! You have no right to make decisions about what he will or won't do! _That's my job!_"

Piccolo snarled back at the small woman. "Well if you haven't already realized, things are changing around here! I know you think things like your son's _schooling_ are the only issues in the world, but you need to open your eyes! Look around! This was a city earlier today, and now it's destroyed! We need to start thinking about what our next move is going to be or we'll all be history. Wake up!"

"I am awake!" Chi Chi screamed back. "I'm awake, and trying to stop a crazy green monster from stealing my son again! You're the only one who put Gohan in danger today!"

"That's it!" Piccolo snapped, his arm whipping out in a flash that caught Chi Chi on the side of the neck. She would have fallen on the ground, but the Namekian threw her over his shoulder instead, glancing down at Gohan's concerned face as he did so. "Your mother's fine, kid," he told the child, "she's just easier to handle when unconscious."

"I think we should figure out our next move," Tien cut in, feeling more and more agitated about standing out in the open. "The aliens aren't anywhere near Roshi's, and my guess is that they're going to focus on the populated regions first if they're really looking for Vegeta like you say they are…"

"They like killing people," Chiaotzu added, "so they'll want to get the cities off their list first."

"So I say Roshi's island is the best place for us to go for now," Tien concluded.

Piccolo's frown deepened as he thought the suggestion over. "We can't reveal our ki or we'll be history; which means flying is out of the question. We don't have another way of crossing the ocean to get to that island."

"You can always take the car," the Ox King suggested, making the fighters turn to face him. "It hovers on water."

Piccolo grunted in annoyance. "I suppose that would work."

* * *

Bulma yawned, rubbing her temple as she sat slumped over her desk. The limited amount of sleep, a day's worth of blueprints, and probably the after effects of last night's celebrations had left her with a pounding headache and fuzzy eyes. Blinking, she managed to focus on the current design she had laid out, but it was only a matter of seconds before her mind began to wander off in numerous directions all at the same time.

"Ughhh," she groaned, laying her forehead on the table. "I just want to switch it off."

"The computer?" Kaiware asked over her shoulder. The petite Saiyan was reviewing scouter designs, checking again and again to make sure she hadn't missed any flaws.

"Noo…, my brain," Bulma mumbled in reply, yawning again. Head still lying on the desk, she peered at Kaiware, glaring because the fluorescent lights above suddenly seemed too bright. "Don't you ever have those days where you just can't focus? My thoughts are all over the place, but at the same time I'm _so tired_. Even so, I don't think I could sleep right now if I tried," she added, yawning again.

Kaiware pressed the main button on her scouter, which currently sat beside the keyboard at her desk. "You're free to go if you wish," she motioned, just the hint of a smile playing on her lips, "there's only another half hour left in the shift anyway."

Bulma sighed, propping her head up on her outstretched arm. "You haven't said one word about Prince Tarble all day," she pouted. "No one tells me anything."

"That's because there's nothing to tell," Kaiware replied coolly, turning back to her work. "The boy went to Roudo, and now he's back. End of story."

Bulma sat up, eyeing Kaiware's back carefully. She was getting better at reading Saiyan body language, and knew that her last comment had pushed the Saiyan woman's buttons. But her thoughts about the mysterious new prince, who had appeared suddenly out of thin air, had been plaguing her mind since morning. Vegeta had been equally evasive about his brother, saying only that the younger man had been sent to Roudo because the planet had a long history of allegiance to the Saiyans, but was outside the realm of the Cold Empire. Such secret relationships were always risky, but they were valued as a way of ensuring Frieza did not oversee Vegetasei's every move.

"I would like to meet him properly," Bulma said quietly, running a hand back through her hair, worn loose for the day. "And his wife seemed nice… very cute."

"Hnnn," Kaiware replied, the tip of her tail twitching where it sat curled around her ankles.

Bulma sighed, pushing herself up from her desk and packing away her half-finished plans. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, slipping her capsule of belongings in her pocket. "Have a good night."

Kaiware didn't acknowledge her goodbyes, but she was used to that by now. Walking back through the palace, she rolled her eyes, wishing Saiyans weren't so damn cryptic all the time. How was she supposed to act about the new prince if she didn't even know anything about him anyway? It had obviously bothered Kaiware to speak about her second son, although she had seemed in high spirits the night before. Pursing her lips, Bulma wondered why Tarble had been sent to Roudo in the first place, and whether the strong Saiyan Lady had had any choice in the matter at all.

_Obviously it worked out well,__ with the planet blowing up and all_, she mused, pushing the door to Vegeta's quarters open. _Maybe that was why, with Frieza about to attack maybe they just shoved him in a ship and pressed 'go', but then why wouldn't Kaiware just say so if that was the case?_ With another yawn she headed for one of the guest bathrooms, but stopped short as she came across the two royal brothers in the living room, who appeared to be engaged in a rather serious staring contest.

After standing in the room for what seemed like ages Bulma began to realize that neither of the men had even realized she was there. That, coupled with their odd behavior- they were still just staring at each other- made her worry; it was uncharacteristic of Vegeta to let his guard down so much. She cleared her throat, and automatically the two men looked towards her, their eyes both showing shock.

"Hi," she said, crossing her arms and biting the inside of her cheek in order to suppress a grin at their comical expressions. "I didn't mean to startle you," she added, finally giving into the temptation to smile. "To be honest Vegeta, I didn't think I'd ever be able to get you back for all the times you've scared me, but it looks like I just did."

"Don't be a fool woman," Vegeta scowled, crossing his arms in his characteristic pose. "I knew you were there the whole time."

"Of course you did," Bulma replied, catching the eye of the younger prince, who, from the look on his face, also found the situation funny. Uncrossing her arms, Bulma gave the younger man a small bow. "I'm Bulma, and I've been wanting to meet you all day."

At this the smaller man's face broke into a wide, friendly grin. The expression itself surprised Bulma, it was odd to see such a look on a face so similar to Vegeta and his father, who were both stoic, serious men. What surprised her more, however, was the way in which the man spoke.

"And I've been wishing to meet you, m'lady," the prince replied, giving her a bow in reply. "My wife never caught your name, but she enjoyed talking with you last night, and it would be my greatest pleasure if you two were to become friends. Especially now that I know that my older brother here is so fond of you."

At this Vegeta snorted. "_Fond_ is overstating it," he grumbled, stalking off in the direction of the kitchen. The smaller prince's grin only widened, breaking out in laughter when he noticed the way the pretty alien woman was staring at him, with a look of utter shock on her face.

"Not what you were expecting?" he asked, motioning for her to sit down on one of the chairs behind them.

"Not quite," she replied quietly. _Here_, she thought, _is the charming Saiyan Prince_.


	24. State of Emergency

**A/N:** When I refer to Trunks or Trunks Briefs in this story I mean Bulma's father

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

* * *

Chapter 24: State of Emergency

Bardock dodged another blast, whirling around in time to catch his attacker off guard and throw the now unconscious man to the floor. He shifted into a defensive stance, feeling just a little out of breath.

"Two down, four to go," he told himself, placing more weight on his front foot as he prepared to jump again.

The Commanders had been testing him all day, throwing soldier after solder, then entire squads at him to see how many he could take on. He wondered if they were beginning to realize how he fought, or if they were just too stupid to see. It wasn't his strength that had allowed him to take on more and more dangerous assignments in the past, although he had grown stronger over time. It was the simple fact that he used his brain while fighting, unlike most of the dumb brutes he had fought against today.

He had become the commander of his own low class squad at a young age, but had quickly earned the respect of his team for being an intelligent fighter. Of course, it had helped that one of the squad members was his mate, and another was his best friend.

Now the powers that be had decided that he was to move up a class, regardless of what he wanted. Yeah, there were benefits to being middle class, but all Bardock really wanted was to have his old squad back, even if there weren't any jobs available at the moment.

_And even if I would now question killing innocents_, he thought to himself as he dodged another hit before landing a strong kick in a female's gut. She screamed and fell to the floor of the training arena, allowing him to focus on the final three fighters.

A blast hit his back unexpectedly and he lost control for a moment, only just managing to grab onto someone's leg. He used the latest move to his advantage, allowing his momentum to help swing the last female into the wall with a smash.

He was about to take on the big balding guy who had thrown the blast when he found himself standing in a burning city he did not recognize. Before him stood the same kid he had seen before in his dreams- the one that had his face, the one that he knew was his son's son. The boy was looking shocked and scared. People- not Saiyans, but something else- were running, screaming, dying.

Suddenly the kid's head turned, as if he heard something, and a Namekian appeared, grabbing the boy and jumping out of the way, just before a blast destroyed the place where the boy had been standing.

The vision was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and was replaced by a hard knee to the nose. Bardock grunted as he felt the bone break with a crunch that made his head swim. Falling to the floor, it took him a moment to right himself, and by then the two fighters were on him.

_This isn't good_, he thought to himself. He wasn't meaning the fight.

* * *

For all the small differences between them, there was still no doubting that the two Princes were brothers. Bulma had watched the Saiyans throughout Tarbles's visit, noticing the way that the younger man's gentler demeanor only made Vegeta seem more rough around the edges. She smiled to herself at that thought; she always preferred gruff men anyway.

The men had the same deep eyes and angled features, although the smaller of the two looked almost baby-faced, still retaining a youthful roundness that made him appear to be eighteen rather than twenty eight.

Vegeta had excused himself with a grunt and the word "shower", and his absence from the room gave Bulma the opportunity to finally ask the younger prince the question that had been bothering her all day: why did everyone seem so evasive when she asked about his reasons for going to Roudo?

She was glad to see that Tarble wasn't taken aback by her question; if anything, he seemed glad to tell her the reason why. As she learned, he had what the Saiyans believed was a genetic condition. Although he could fight, he had no natural instinct for it. Kaiware had first picked up on it when he was two, and still hadn't shown any inclination for violence.

"But have they identified any genes to show that this is actually genetic? I mean, how can that be a condition?" she asked, "It hardly seems fair; so what if you don't like fighting? Why should there be a problem?"

Tarble had chuckled at her questions, shaking his head. Bulma had been glad to learn he was a scientist like his mother, and she knew that he would take her question about genetics seriously.

"No, they have never identified a gene. I suppose most would argue that it is so rare, there's never enough test subjects."

"But you don't think there is a gene?" she asked.

"To be honest, I don't know. What I'm sure of is that the question bothers my parents- my father in particular. He is the epitome of all Saiyans; he is the King! Imagine what people would say if word got out that he was passing this debilitating condition onto his heirs…"

"And that's why it has to be kept hush hush. One way to do that was to send you away, before anyone else noticed… I get it," Bulma nodded. After a moment she asked, "So why tell me?"

Tarble simply shrugged.

"It seems that my brother trusts you, and that means a great deal to me."

* * *

Dr Trunks Briefs stood at the window in his living room, stroking his cat while he seemingly stared at nothing.

He was usually a cheerful man. People often mistook him for a fool, although he was far from it. He was simply happy with his life; he didn't care that his wife wasn't the smartest woman in the world because he loved her, and he loved the way she looked at life. When it came to situations like his daughter's abduction, his wife always looked on the bright side, and so he usually tried to look on the bright side too.

It was becoming extremely difficult to see a bright side these days.

The situation had, he realised, escalated to the point of no return. Unlike the Saiyans that had destroyed one city, kidnapped his daughter and then fled, the five that were now systematically purging the Earth of her inhabitants showed no signs of stopping. In fact, they taunted the people who knew their lives were coming to an end, even, in some cases, seeking out the media to make announcements that they were searching for the one named Vegeta, and that they fought in the name of the great Lord _Freeeezaa_.

Looking out the window, the scientist calculated again the aliens' estimated time of arrival in West City. At the rate they were working at now it would surely be another twelve hours before they descended upon Capsule Corp. headquarters and her neighbours, but this was not something Dr Briefs intended to be around for.

And now it fell upon him to make the hardest choice of all; the decision on who to save, and who to leave. There were fifty spaces available- twenty five each on the two spare spaceships he had completed- and even that would be a squeeze. A tear rolled down his cheek as he thought about all the animals he kept housed on the first floor of the massive compound he called home; they were his friends and loved ones too, but he could not justify saving animals over people in this case. Only his beloved kitty, who was currently sitting, as always, on his shoulder, would be making the trip with him.

He picked up the phone, scrolling through the contacts list until he found the number he had been searching for.

_**Muten Roshi: 457 899 64292**_

As the phone began to ring, he hoped he was not too late to contact his daughter's old friend.

* * *

Bunny ran up the stairs for what felt like the hundredth time. Trunks had said to pack as much as she could of their belongings because they were leaving, and that they might not ever return!

She ran into Bulma's room again to check on how the robots were going, feeling very glad that her wonderful husband was so smart. Even though the Earth was under attack, Trunks had told her everything would be okay. They were even going to see their daughter on the planet full of handsome aliens like Son Goku!

The robots had done everything she asked, and had packed up everything in Bulma's walk in wardrobe. They also capsulized all the drawers and desks for her, before pitting all the separate capsules into one container that was capsulized again. The same had been done in her own bedroom, and downstairs in the basement all the supplies of food had been packed away too.

Bunny bit her lip as she thought about the animals downstairs. Trunks had told her the best thing was to release them into the wild, and so trucks had been programmed to drive on autopilot into the nearest forest, where they would free all the pets.

It was only when a tear rolled down her nose that she realised she was crying. Who was she kidding? Escaping the planet wasn't exciting at all! She was just telling herself that so that she wouldn't think about how much she would miss her home and her pets.

And seeing what the aliens were doing on TV made her worry more about Bulma. But that handsome man that had taken Bulma to his planet would be treating her right, wouldn't he?

Bunny forced herself to smile. Bulma was fine! They were going to a new planet, and she would see her daughter, and maybe she could even find Bulma a handsome alien husband. If she could they could plan such a wonderful wedding!

Bunny ran back down the stairs. She had to check if she had packed all of her _Bride_ magazines.

* * *

Gohan stood on his tippy toes so he could peer out the window at the cars below. Out past the gates of Capsule Corp was a scene of madness; there were so many cars that they all got stuck and couldn't move, and everyone was honking and yelling. Gohan could hear people crying. His mom was one of those people.

He still couldn't believe what was happening. Yesterday morning he had been studying when Mr Piccolo came to get him, and since then everything had been so crazy and rushed. First he was almost blown up and had to go to old man Roshi's, and then when he got back to Mr Piccolo and Tien and Chiaotzu, Mom had turned up and yelled at Mr Piccolo and then Tien had said they had to go back to Roshi's, and so they did (which was boring except for when Grandpa farted in the car accidentally, then it was funny) and then when they got to Roshi's the old man had told them to turn around because they had to go again!

Now they were at Bulma's house. That's what Dad called the big yellow building. Gohan closed his eyes, trying to remember Bulma. She was his Dad's friend, but he had only met her once a long time ago, and then he saw her get stolen by the Saiyans. She was pretty, he supposed. He remembered when she picked him up the day Raditz had come… she smelled nice then. That was the day he started training with Mr Piccolo.

Gohan turned around to ask Mr Piccolo a question, and frowned when he realised his master wasn't there. He asked Tien, but the big man only said 'Don't worry kid, he'll be back.' That made Gohan worried; they were going to leave soon and Mr Piccolo had gone somewhere! What if he got into trouble?

Mom was in the next room talking with Roshi and Grandpa and Bulma's Dad about the spaceships and things. It was hard to search for Mr Piccolo's ki- Mr Piccolo would be hiding it from the bad guys like they all were- but Gohan finally sensed where Mr Piccolo was. Piccolo was moving fast! Gohan hugged himself; he was scared of the aliens, but he was more scared about leaving behind Mr Piccolo. He looked around to check that no one was watching, and climbed out the open window.

He called to Nimbus and jumped on, telling the cloud to follow Mr Piccolo.

* * *

The guardian of Earth stood at the edge of his lookout, feeling completely powerless. "I have failed, Mr Popo," he said quietly.

Down on the world below, millions were being slaughtered. Kami himself knew that the one the aliens were looking for was not on the planet, but he also knew that there was no point in telling them this. The aliens were going to murder everyone on the planet, regardless of whether the Saiyan was found or not.

Mr Popo looked up at his best friend and master. He hated this feeling of melancholy, and wished there was something that he could do to console the guardian. But there was nothing that could be done. They were all doomed.

Kami didn't even move when Piccolo arrived on the lookout. The other half of Kami made Mr Popo nervous; the man still emanated evil, although his heart was slowly beginning to fill with love for the small child of Son Goku.

"Get over yourself, old man," the younger half sneered, baring his fangs. "There are still options."

"No. My planet is dying. I will die with it," Kami replied, still peering down at the world below.

"Don't be stupid!" Piccolo snapped, snatching at the old man's shoulder and pulling him around so that the two who were one faced each other. "Suicide is the most foolish thing you could do; have you forgotten that if you die then I die too?"

"I'm sorry Piccolo…"

"Just wake up! I want to live! And the Earth is still supposed to be mine, but you think that's going to happen if we just sit here and let them kill us? You think that's your best bet? Do you think Yemma-sama will think that you doing this, just moping around until you get killed, was the best way you could have guarded the planet?"

"There is nothing more that can be done!" Kami cried, pushing his younger half away with a sudden bout of anger. "You can go and face them if you want, Piccolo, but we almost died yesterday, and it will simply happen again! You are not strong enough to face them!"

"You think I don't know that? Why do you think I'm going with the kid to the Saiyans' planet?" Piccolo retorted. "There are more like us there. They have dragon balls. For fuck sake, we still have your dragonballs. There are options; if the Saiyans had their planet wished back, we can too. You need to stop thinking that this is the end. There is always another way! I won't let you kill us, you old fool!"

"I have no wish to go anywhere. I want to die on my planet. I am old anyway."

"Well I am not! Are you just going to murder me, old man? That's what it is! Is your precious, pure heart able to accept that if you die willingly, you will be condemning me to a death that I do not want?"

"I was prepared to kill you before, through Son Goku," Kami replied. "You are evil, and so you should die. Isn't that the case?"

Piccolo growled under his breath, baring his fangs again. "I have to protect the boy," he hissed through clenched teeth, hating to admit the fact that he now felt responsible for someone other than himself.

Kami took a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning heavily on his staff. The boy had cause a change in Piccolo, and it was something that Kami could no longer deny. His other half was well on the way to being a good man. "Forgive me Piccolo," he spoke after a moment, "I have let my own despair cloud my judgement. Yes, you are right. It is better to do something… if there is a possibility to fight these monsters in the future and regain what has been lost then it is still better than doing nothing at all."

"Finally the old man admits I'm right," Piccolo sneered.

"That it the problem," Kami nodded. "I am old. I only have a hundred more years in me, anyway. I have lived a long and fulfilling life."

"Kami, no!" Mr Popo interjected. "Don't say such things! You are still strong!"

"But I could be stronger," Kami replied, turning to face Mr Popo. "If I can be stronger, then it gives us all a better chance. I should be fighting for my planet. It is not fair on Piccolo to carry the weight of all of this when there is a way I can contribute my strength too. After all, I was a warrior once."

"You can't be serious," Piccolo spat, taking a step back. "I only meant for you to travel with us, old man. I'm not going to be a fucking babysitter!"

"What other way is there, Piccolo? My body is too old! This is the best way. Then both you and I will have an equal chance at life; after all, you deserve a chance to live until you're old like me, don't you? You wouldn't want to die a hundred years from now simply because my old body gave in, am I right?"

Popo looked between the two Nameks, a look of utter confusion on his face. Seeing the expression, Piccolo growled.

"He's going to lay a fucking egg!" the younger Namek hissed.

* * *

Piccolo still couldn't wrap his head around the latest turn of events. Yeah, he understood that Earth was under attack. Yeah, he damn well knew that he was too weak to face the aliens, and that his best chance was to evacuate with the others.

What he didn't get- what he still couldn't believe even though he was holding the end product- was that Kami had been so insane, so depressed about the events, so freakin' desperate, that he had actually laid all his essence- his soul, everything that made Kami 'Kami'- in an egg so that he could be reborn.

Of course Piccolo knew it would work as soon as the thought shot through Kami's head. It was how he himself now existed- his 'father', King Piccolo, had been on the brink of death when he had spat out an egg containing all of his own life force. Apparently the body of King Piccolo had then exploded.

When Piccolo had hatched from that egg, only a day later, he was for all intents and purposes the reincarnation of his father. He did not possess the direct memories of the previous Piccolo, but he did possess the goals, hopes and dreams of his predecessor, as well as the knowledge that his predecessor had had. That is how Piccolo knew who Son Goku was before ever meeting him before, and how he knew that Goku was his rival, his enemy.

The greatest difference of all that came from being the 'reincarnation' was the rate at which the younger version grew. Within days the hatchling would be the size of a five year old human. Within months he would be reaching adolescence. Within two years he would be fully grown.

Piccolo of course wasn't quite sure if that was just how all children of his kind grew, although he doubted it. It would not make sense for someone to grow so quickly unless their mental faculties developed at the same speed, but that hadn't been the case in his own development. Instead, he had already been born with a fully matured brain; in the end it was his body that had to catch up.

Piccolo thought about the old genie's reaction to all of this. Popo hadn't been happy with Kami's plan at all, and had been distraught as Kami spat out the egg, refusing to leave the lookout afterwards.

Thankfully, the body of Kami hadn't disappeared quite so spectacularly as King Piccolo's had. Instead, once the egg was out, the body of the old man simply crumpled to the floor, appearing to shrink as it did so. Piccolo grunted in disgust thinking about it, and then in disgust again at the _thing_ underneath his arm.

What he hated the most was the fact that he had no choice; if he wanted to live he _had_ to protect the egg containing the new Kami, because if that egg died then it was game over for him too.

"Fuckin' wily old man," Piccolo grumbled as he continued to run, clutching the egg close to his body. He and Kami had always shared their thoughts unwillingly; it was an added problem that came with being two separate halves of what ought to be one soul. Even though Kami had tried- and Piccolo had felt him trying to- hide all of his thoughts while at the lookout, Piccolo had still read the old man's mind enough to hear that Kami was _going to enjoy_ seeing Piccolo have to care for the younger version!

That pissed Piccolo off.

Piccolo was suddenly broken out of his reverie by a distant, rumbling sound. He stopped suddenly, noticing he was almost within the outskirts of another city. "Fuuuck," he hissed under his breath, cursing at his own stupidity.

He had been so caught up in his own thoughts he had simply been running on autopilot. That fact alone would have been fine, but he had failed to notice the two new powerful ki that came hurtling towards the Earth. While he guessed that one was going to hit quite a way south from where he was standing, he could already see the faint dot of the other ship in the distant sky. It was heading straight for the city before him.

To make matters worse, he couldn't backtrack, because the aliens already on the planet were quickly moving closer. He was going to have to try and outrun the ship.

And that's when things started to get even worse, because before his very eyes there appeared a fluffy yellow cloud, with a certain brat on board.

"H… Hey Mr Piccolo," Gohan grinned sheepishly.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Piccolo cried, allowing all his frustration to come out. "Damn it boy, you're going to get us killed!"

Wrenching the kid off the cloud, he tucked his new package under his other arm and ran for his life, deciding that if he was going to beat the ship he'd have to take the direct route through the city, rather than running around it.

But the ship's descent was hard to judge, and at the last moment Piccolo stopped, just seconds before the round pod hurtled into the ground in front of him, creating a huge crater. With no other option, Piccolo jumped back behind some debris created by the impact and waited.

Gohan was whimpering under his arm. "I'm so sorry Mr Piccolo," the small boy whispered, "I… I didn't…"

"Shhh," Piccolo hissed back in a whisper. "We'll discuss it later. Just stay quiet, and keep your ki down!"

They watched in silence as the door of the pod began to open with an audible _pissshhhhh_, while the screams of a city in chaos surrounded them.

* * *

Gohan had never felt so many feelings before in his life. He felt scared because he was in the worst place imaginable, with an alien about to appear from out of his ship. He felt glad that Mr Piccolo was with him, because Mr Piccolo always knew what to do. He felt guilty that Mr Piccolo was with him, because he was sure that Mr Piccolo could have run just a bit faster if he hadn't been carrying a person as well as the giant white thing under his arm. He felt confused about the giant white thing under Mr Piccolo's arm- it looked like a dinosaur egg! He felt worried about whether he was going to see his mom again, and he felt worried about what would happen if he saw his mom again because he had sneaked out.

Worst of all, he was beginning to feel like he needed to go peepee.

After what seemed like an age, Gohan heard the alien jump out. He poked his head just over the ledge that they were hiding behind, and was surprised by what he saw.

This alien felt evil- Gohan could sense it in the alien's ki. But unlike the others, this alien didn't look evil or scary at all. Instead he looked nice, with long green hair and shiny blue skin and gold eyes. The alien reminded Gohan of the movie stars in the magazines that Mom liked to read.

When the people around the crater stopped screaming, and didn't look so scared, Gohan realised that the alien's physical appearance was a trick. He was like the opposite to the ugly duckling; he was pretty on the outside but mean on the inside.

The only problem was that most of the people couldn't sense that the alien was mean on the inside.

"My name is Zarbon," the alien spoke loudly, and Gohan noticed that even his voice sounded pretty, "and I'm searching for the Saiyans Vegeta and Nappa. Tell me where they are and I promise no one will get hurt."

The alien turned around, searching the crowd of people that was gathering. Piccolo pulled Gohan down and wrapped a blanket over their heads as the alien's gaze swept over the area where they were hiding, and Gohan understood that they weren't allowed to let the alien see them.

"We don't know what a Saiyan is!" one brave soul yelled from the crowd.

"A Saiyan is a disgusting monkey creature," the alien replied with a laugh. "They have tails." At this Gohan tucked his tail closer to him, realising why Piccolo had hidden them under a blanket. He was a Saiyan too, and if the alien saw him then they'd be in big trouble. "I believe they were here a few months ago," the alien Zarbon continued, "and were working in cahoots with one of your natives named Bulma Briefs. If you can tell me where they are now then none of you will be harmed."

"Will you stop the other aliens from attacking us all?" yelled another. "I don't want to die!"

"Yes, of course I will stop them for you!" the alien yelled charmingly. "Just tell me where they are, and I will stop all the attacks."

"He already knows they're not here," Piccolo whispered faintly in Gohan's ear. "When I say 'go', you run, understand?"

When Gohan nodded, Piccolo continued. "Hide you tail under your shirt now. Good. Head straight for Capsule Corp. Get back on your cloud if you can, but remember to remain out of sight at all times."

"You'll be coming too?" Gohan whispered worriedly.

"Yeah kid," came the reply.

Gohan leaned his forehead against Mr Piccolo's chest as he listened to the crowd again. "Yeah, they flew off with her," someone yelled, before another added, "They aren't here anymore!"

"Are you certain?" the alien's voice drawled.

"Yeah! They're not here! They went back into space!" yelled the crowd in reply.

Gohan felt Piccolo tense under him as the alien yelled "Well that's a shame! I suppose I have no use for you then!"

"Go!" Piccolo whispered, and pushed Gohan out from under the blanket. Gohan stumbled, and then began to run, just as blasts began to rain down on the city.

People were screaming and running and getting blown up all around him, but he knew he couldn't stop and help them. A blast landed just in front, and Gohan stopped, throwing his arms across his face as Mr Piccolo had taught him to do. He stood stunned for a moment, shaking and unsure of what to do next. The entire city was ablaze around him, and the sky was black with smoke. From above he heard Zarbon's laugh, a deep evil cackle.

"Gohan!" Mr Piccolo yelled from somewhere, and suddenly he was swept off his feet as Mr Piccolo grabbed hold of his clothes. They seemed to soar over the flames, even though Gohan knew Mr Piccolo was only running really fast. He was tucked under Piccolo's arm again, and watched as the city whizzed by. Buildings collapsed before his eyes, people were thrown into the air as blasts hit, and wave after wave of blistering heat hit their backs, their arms, their faces.

Then suddenly they were out of the city and Mr Piccolo was yelling "Hold your breath!" and then they were under the water and his eyes were burning from the shock. Gohan felt disorientated and almost breathed in some water, but then Mr Piccolo was pushing his head out and yelling "Breathe!" before pulling him back under again.

By the third breath Gohan knew what to expect, and took in a breath as his head popped up out of the water, before Mr Piccolo even yelled for him too. He caught a glimpse of the city, now far behind them. It didn't even look like a city anymore; instead it looked like a blazing hell, all red and black.

As Piccolo pulled him under the water yet again, Gohan realised just how smart his master was. Rather than escaping across the grassy plains, where Zarbon may have easily spotted them, they were escaping through the river that had run down beside the city. The alien wouldn't see them through the murky water, and when they were far enough away, they would start running again.

Gohan watched the city grow smaller and smaller with every breath he took, as they moved further and further away. He could see Zarbon's figure floating above the fiery mess, and Gohan realised how lucky he was that the alien had chosen to destroy the city with hundreds of small blasts, rather than one big explosion that would have caught them all.

When Mr Piccolo finally pulled him out of the river and onto the riverbank, he told his master what he thought about the different sized blasts. Slightly breathless, Mr Piccolo nodded, and then said "It seems that he likes to toy with people. That's the worst kind of evil."

When Gohan asked what Mr Piccolo meant, the green man simply shook his head and motioned in the direction of West City.

"Run, Gohan."

* * *

Gohan had never been happier to see the big yellow building when he reached the gates of Capsule Corporation. It hadn't taken them too long to run the rest of the way back, but that wasn't necessarily good. It meant that Zarbon wasn't that far away, and if Zarbon reached West City before they left then they were in big trouble.

"Gohan! Where have you been?" Mom yelled, but before he could answer Mr Piccolo was pushing past and yelling at everyone.

"We have to leave now!" Piccolo thundered, starling a young girl who ran and hid behind her father's leg. "Two more have arrived, and they could be here anytime!"

Everyone began yelling over each other and running towards a big open doorway. Somewhere along the way Mom had begun holding his hand, and now she pulled him forward as two huge round ships loomed above them.

"We're on Capsule two, right?" Mom was yelling to Bulma's Dad, who nodded in reply. Then Mom was tugging on his arm again, and pulling him into the first of the big ships. Gohan twisted in her grip in order to look behind him, and just managed to see Piccolo and Tien following behind before his view was blocked by Grandpa.

"Are you excited to be flying into space, Gohan?" Grandpa asked, a big smile on his face.

Gohan nodded, allowing Mom to belt him into a seat.

Yes, he was excited. And nervous. And scared.

* * *

"What the hell is that?" Tien asked, scrunching his nose at the huge white egg tucked under Piccolo's arm.

"It's Kami," the Namek grunted, before pushing past the smaller man in order to enter the ship.

Tien sighed, closing all three of his eyes. "Of course it is," he mumbled under his breath, before following behind Piccolo.

_When did everything get so messed up?_ he thought to himself as he helped a young woman into the ship, smiling at her as he did so. He looked up and noticed a now blonde Launch giving him another one of her looks.

Gulping, he shook his head.

"Oh boy."

* * *

Trunks Briefs was about to shut the door on Capsule Two when three more figures appeared in the doorway of the ship. Before he could say anything, Muten Roshi was up out of his seat, bowing to the new arrivals and professing his gratitude that his great martial arts master had made it in time.

With a sigh Trunks walked away from the control panel and towards the group amassing, adjusting his glasses as he did so. The ships were already crammed; in the end he had allowed for and extra ten people per ship.

"Got room for three more?" the fat white cat in the doorway asked him. "We're friends of Goku."

Trunks then found himself being introduced to the newcomers by Roshi. The cat, he discovered, was Korin the martial arts master. The cat's assistant was a fat samurai, who simply grunted and stood chewing a piece of grass.

The third person was a genie, who happened to be holding, of all things, a magic carpet.

Trunks rubbed his eyes to check he wasn't hallucinating; after all, he had been up for almost forty hours. He held up two fingers, waving them in front of his face. He only saw two fingers.

With a shrug, he addressed the cat.

"Why not? The cappuccino machine's over there. Make yourselves at home."

* * *

Krillin had been trying to reach Capsule Corporation for over 24 hours, but nothing seemed to be working. He was beginning to feel worse and worse about the situation, because he knew for certain that there was a bunch of evil creeps on Earth, but he had no idea whether their friends were alive or not.

To make matters worse, Goku was in a serious mood. It was reasonable, considering the circumstances, but that fact didn't do anything to ease Krillin's anxiety. He had never seen Goku so serious, so _angry_ in his life.

Angry Goku was scary.

The main thing that was grating on both men's nerves was the fact that they could do nothing to help their friends and families in need. Instead, they were stuck on a spaceship, unable to even turn the damn thing around.

Krillin was just about to make another attempt at calling Capsule Corp. when the ship's main screen flashed to life, the face of a very tired Dr Briefs filling Krillin's view.

"Doc!" Krillin yelled in both surprise and joy. "You're alive!"

"Yes," the doctor replied as Goku ran up the stairs from the living area below. "Only just."


	25. Predator and Prey

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.**

**A/N:** You may have noticed that I changed the summary of the story... I hope everyone likes it! I think it better reflects what this fanfic is about. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

* * *

Chapter 25: Predator and Prey

Piccolo let out an exasperated sigh. It had been less than twenty four hours since they had left Earth, and the noise hadn't stopped for even a moment. He cursed his damned hearing and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and willing everything to go away.

_Dying on Earth would have been less torturous than this._

He was sitting cross-legged in the small bathroom on the bottom level of the spaceship. He'd locked the door, figuring that most would think it was just someone taking a dump and leave him in peace.

But the noise never stopped.

Piccolo was beginning to realise that humans were incapable of being quiet. Even in their stress-induced slumber they were a noisy lot, coughing and farting, moaning and snoring. He sneered as the harsh cry of a baby reached his ears. In the damn spaceship there was no escape.

He didn't know how he was going to survive a month of this shit. Especially considering the fact that the ships were so crowded there was no room to train.

_I'll have to engage Gohan in some mental training_, he mused, knowing full well that he would have to give it at least another day before he did. The kid had survived this far on adrenalin, and Piccolo had to admit that he was even impressed by the maturity that the boy had shown. But the events of the past few days had finally caught up with Goku's son, and now that reality was sinking in, the kid wasn't taking it too well. He was, after all, still only a few months off from turning six.

The thought of birthdays brought Piccolo back to another reality, which happened to be sitting on the floor in front of him. As if his thought summoned the creature inside, the large white egg wobbled slightly on the tiled floor. Piccolo ground his teeth together at the movement; he knew it was coming, and in was the other reason why he had locked himself in the bathroom, but knowledge didn't make him feel any better about the situation. _At least_, he conceded to himself, _Popo is here. He can take care of it_.

It was at this moment that 'it' decided to emerge, a small crack suddenly appearing in the thick shell. The crack instantly became a wide fissure, exposing pink juices that began to roll down the side of the shell. Within seconds a green foot shoved its way through the ever widening hole, and the wail of a new baby sang through the ship.

Piccolo sneered. "Don't try that fucking shit on me, Kami," he growled, feeling extremely uncomfortable watching a birth. "I managed to do it on my own, you can too, brat."

At this a large piece of shell fell away, exposing the face of wet, scowling baby. Piccolo snarled in disgust, and the baby glared back at him.

'_In a day I'll be a lot stronger, Piccolo,'_ the baby spoke through the connection that constantly joined to two. Piccolo shivered, hating the feeling of another in his head, and loathing the fact that something in his very core screamed that the two belonged together.

Piccolo stood suddenly, unlocking the door. "Good," he spoke without looking back, "you can make your own way upstairs, then."

'_You know you can't leave me here,'_ the baby's voice echoed again. _'One of the humans will see me when they come in here, and will probably kill me in a state of panic. You know that their mental states are not the best right now. Their entire planet has just been purged by aliens. What would one do if they found an alien baby in the middle of their bathroom?'_

Piccolo turned his head ever so slightly, so that he could see the baby in his peripheral vision.

'_If I die, so do you.'_

"Fine!" Piccolo yelled, quickly yanking the baby out of its egg by the foot. The infant let out a cry of shock, which quickly morphed into an all-out fit. Piccolo stared in horror and the thing hanging in his arms, before lifting the child to his shoulder in a gentler manner that surprised even himself, because the movement felt so natural. He stood like that, feeling awkward and confused, until the child's wails quietened down into hiccups.

The new Kami may have had an adult's brain, but he was still a baby, after all. The infant was struggling between his instincts to cry, and his desire to not seem so damn needy around his darker half.

Piccolo, on the other hand, was dealing with his own conflicting emotions. He _loathed_ Kami. He _hated_ him to his core.

So why did he suddenly have the same protective urge that he had for Gohan? Why did the baby's cries almost pain him? Piccolo shook his head, quickly heading upstairs in order to dump the infant with Popo. The genie could take care of the rest; his job was done for now.

He returned to the bathroom, this time to dry-retch into the toilet. He refused to focus on the word that rang between the infant and himself. He refused to acknowledge that deep down, it sounded right.

'_Father.'_

* * *

Frieza sat within his hovering chair, staring out at the vast expanse of space. White lids closed over the bright red pupils that were so frightening to others, and he took a deep breath.

In.

Out.

In.

He was trying to remain calm. Not that it would matter if he had a fit; he could easily kill everyone on board without any trouble. He was, after all, the great Lord Frieza who bowed to no one.

No, he could kill as many of his men as he wanted, but that would mean only one thing- that Vegeta was getting to him. The last thing he ever wanted to do was let that _weak, disgusting brat of a monkey __**make him feel as if he…**_

In.

Out.

Calm. The fact that Vegeta was still missing was insignificant. The fact that it had been a week since Zarbon and Dodoria had arrived on Earth, and that there was still no word back from either of them, nor Ginyu, did not matter.

He would not let it bother him that the conversations recorded on Vegeta's scouter showed that the monkey had a genius scientist working with him.

He would not let it irritate him that the Namekians had vanished, along with their dragonballs and his naughty, good for nothing Saiyans, into thin air.

He would not think about the fact that immortality seemed further and further away.

Behind him the large message screen flashed to life, bringing up Zarbon's pretty face against the backdrop of blue sky. Frieza swivelled his chair around to face his loyal soldier, his tail almost twitching in anticipation of the news.

"Well?" Frieza snapped, not bothering anymore to hide his agitation. "It's been a week and I haven't heard anything from you!"

"Forgive me, Lord Frieza," Zarbon bowed. "I felt it would be best to give you a full report on my findings at the end of my examination. It was…"

"Did you find Vegeta?" Frieza cut in. He watched as Zarbon's expression became just a little more frozen.

"Unfortunately no, my Lord," the attractive man replied.

Frieza pursed his lips, feeling the rage beginning to boil within him. This was getting ridiculous! How far could a monkey like that have travelled?

"THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" he shrieked, leaning forward out of his chair. "How _hard_ is it to find two stupid monkeys? I want them _dead_, Zarbon, and instead you take a week to tell me that they are not there! Do you realise how much time you have wasted by not informing me when you first arrived on that shit hole!"

"But my Lord," Zarbon appeased, "it was necessary to make a very thorough investigation. I needed to make sure Vegeta was not hiding anywhere. Now we have left no stone unturned on this planet, it has been purged of all inhabitants, and you are able to feel confident that you know where Vegeta is not."

"I want to know where he _IS_, Zarbon!" Frieza yelled back. "I couldn't care less where he is not! There are millions of planets in this universe; do you expect me to search all of them?"

"Of course not, Sire, but I also gained some valuable information on the Earth woman Vegeta has with him. It may lead us to him, yet."

Intrigued, Frieza took a deep breath, settling back into his chair comfortably.

"Tell me," he ordered, turning to stare at the emptiness of space once more.

He would find Vegeta yet.

* * *

Across the universe, the remnants of humankind were also staring out at space. Behind them lay their empty Earth, now a week's travel away. Ahead lay a planet they knew hardly anything about, except that Bulma Briefs had been taken there, and she was apparently in good health.

But that didn't mean the new planet would be safe for them.

As the first week had progressed, the passengers on the two Capsule Corp. ships had experienced a range of emotions. After the adrenalin-filled rush to leave the planet, the ascent into space had caused many to shed tears of loneliness, guilt and despair.

As Earth and the rest of the solar system had faded out of sight, and the original awe of space had worn off, the men and women aboard were left wondering why they had been chosen and spared, while some of their colleagues had not. Most of the passengers were the top employees- both scientists and business men and women- of Capsule Corporation, and their immediate families, but there were many more brilliant scientists who weren't present on either of the ships.

None of the Capsule Corp. employees dared to ask their employer why he had made the choices he did, for they could tell that the usually cheerful man was just as upset as they were about the events that had transpired on Earth. Instead they kept to themselves, often talking in small groups, or just sitting on their own, staring out at space, or at the walls, or the ceiling, or the floor.

The Capsule Corp. employees also kept away from the group of warriors and their associates as much as they could; all the individuals seemed a little odd, down to the little boy who had a tail. Even though they all knew that the fighters were the close friends of Bulma Briefs, the employees still felt uncomfortable around the strange group of individuals. They just didn't seem like normal people.

As the employees quickly found, space travel was rather dull, and boredom reigned supreme. People grew crankier and crankier in the confined space, as the large spheroid ships began to feel more and more like tiny fishbowls. The problem was magnified by the fact that people were grieving for their friends and family who were now, according to the big green man, all dead.

For some, it was all too much to process, and they withdrew from the group. For others, anger issues became a problem, and at times fights broke out.

With another three weeks of travel ahead of them, they felt as if they were slowly going mad.

* * *

Prince Tarble stared at his brother, shaking his head in disbelief. Vegeta gave him a snarl in reply; one of the few parts of their conversation that had taken place outside of their heads. Tarble resolved with a sigh to let the matter go for the moment, sensing his brother's increasing agitation.

Across from them sat their father, a thoughtful expression etched on the older man's features as he watched his sons. It still felt odd to see the boys as they were now; he half expected them to walk in and be barely reaching his knees again, chattering and lively and pudgy with youth.

"I didn't summon you two so that I could sit here watching a silent conversation that I am not party to," the King spoke harshly, drawing his sons' attentions back to the matter at hand. "If it is so important that you must discuss it in my precious time, I suggest you speak out loud."

"It's nothing," the eldest Prince bit out in a snarl. "The fool is simply nagging me about shit."

At this remark Tarble pouted, the lines between his brows deepening. "I don't _nag_, brother, and I'm not a fool. In fact, I think you're the one being foolish if you can't even see…"

Tarble's words cut off as his brother's hand closed around his throat, a vicious snarl ripping through the air as Vegeta leaned forward until his nose was just inches from his brother's, the look in his eyes bordering on madness.

"You would be _wise_," he hissed, tightening his grip until Tarble began to feel lightheaded, "to shut the fuck up. _Brother_."

Feeling too terrified to even attempt to defend himself, Tarble simply stared wide eyed at Vegeta, wheezing as his brother finally let him go. He looked away in the opposite direction, fighting the urge to show how much physical and emotional pain he was in. He loved his brother, he always had. Vegeta had always been his role model; as children, Vegeta had always defended him. Tarble's memories held numerous instances where Vegeta had stood in front of him, taking the punishment for something they had both committed.

A chill ran through his tail as he thought of the look in Vegeta's eyes. He wasn't sure if his brother would defend him like he used to. He wasn't even sure if Vegeta wouldn't kill him, anymore. That fact hurt more than anything, and Tarble fought back tears as he continued to look away. He missed the old Vegeta. He wanted his real brother back.

_What did Frieza do to him?_

Taking a deep breath, Tarble coughed, looking up at their father. The thought of Frieza reminded him why they were meeting in the first place; they were to discuss their planet's rebellion against the Cold Empire. The idea that Vegeta was so warped after his time with Frieza angered Tarble enough to push his own upset away for the time being, and he sat back straighter in his chair.

"Forgive me, father," he spoke, his voice sounding more like his brother's raspy tone due to his near-strangulation. "I never wished to waste your time."

The King grunted in response, his eyes watching both his children warily. Tarble was too soft, but Vegeta's harshness bordered on insanity. Shaking his head, the King began to discuss the things that really mattered.

As the meeting progressed, Tarble felt much better about how they were going to deal with the Colds. He had faith in his brother's strength; if there was anyone who could ascend to the level of the Legendary, it would be Vegeta.

As soon as he was dismissed, Tarble stood up, pushing past Vegeta as he headed for the door. He half expected the older man to shove him back in retaliation, but Vegeta simply let him past. Tarble could feel his brother trying access his mind, but for now he was keeping that door closed.

He may have had faith in Vegeta, but that didn't mean he felt like talking to the man at the moment.

* * *

Vegeta yelled in anger as a blast hit him on the shoulder, _again_. Ever since the meeting this morning he had been distracted, and his training was suffering. He glared menacingly at the reflective bots that hovered around him, new balls of ki igniting in each of his hands. He released the two blasts, aiming each at a separate bot, before leaping back into action.

The woman had been smart to create this training equipment for him, he mused as he dodged in and out between blasts. There were six bots in total, and each was designed to bounce blasts directly at any living thing in sight. Given the fact that they were capable of shooting the blasts back at the speed of one of Frieza's elites, Vegeta had to give the woman credit. She really was a genius.

Not that he would ever admit that to her.

The fact that his own mother actually respected the woman's scientific opinion, and had somewhat taken Bulma under her wing, showed more than any invention ever would. Vegeta knew for a fact that Lady Kaiware did not take to newcomers easily, and yet she had accepted Bulma- a weakling foreigner- as a colleague.

Tarble was even more impressed with the woman's scientific mind and quick wit. In the week that had passed since their arrival, Tarble and his disgusting thing of a wife had spent most evenings in Vegeta's quarters, discussing technology, Saiyan culture, Human culture, and more. Vegeta often sat and listened silently, letting Tarble and Gure ask the questions that he himself had often wondered…

"_Do Humans enjoy music?"_

"_Yeah! Music from Earth is one of the things I miss the most!"_

He growled, sending another two blasts at the bots in an attempt to rid his mind of foolish things. He should have been focusing on his present training, not on his brother and the ridiculous Earth woman.

But this thought led him back to the way he had lashed out at Tarble this morning. His younger brother _had_ been acting foolish, asking him fucking ridiculous questions about his relations with Bulma, but now Vegeta kept seeing the image of Tarble looking both terrified and hurt. Vegeta sneered, dodging more of the blasts as the gravity in the room automatically increased again. He wasn't a man that felt guilty often, and he did not like having this unsettling feeling in his gut.

The more he tried to forget about it, the more the issue with Tarble seemed to bother him.

_He's too fucking soft_, he told himself, but it didn't make any difference.

Of course, what bothered him the most was Tarble's reaction after the incident. Instead of brushing it off, his brother had shut him out of his head completely. In the past week Vegeta had gotten used to the telepathic communication they had utilised so much as children; he usually just had to reach out his thoughts and Tarble would pick up, like someone answering a connection over the scouter.

Now he was met with a wall instead. Vegeta wasn't used to being ignored, especially by those weaker than him, and his brother's defiance pissed him off.

Lacking the usual concentration, Vegeta dodged a blast just a little too late, the searing ball of energy clipping him on the leg and causing him to land off-balance. The bots seemed to pick up on the weakness, quickly reflecting the other blasts back at him before he even had a chance to think. Seeing three blasts hurtling towards him, Vegeta reacted on instinct alone, screaming as he shot a wave of energy out from his body that dissipated the three blasts.

The bots crashed to the ground as Vegeta sank to his hands and knees, sweat pouring off him as he breathed heavily. The gravity had increased again, and his muscles were searing with pain. When he finally lifted his head, he saw that all six of the bots were broken, the small heaps of twisted metal bearing no semblance to the shiny orbs they once were.

With an air of finality Vegeta pushed himself off the floor, grunting as he did so, and did his best to ignore the screaming pain that ran through him. Disengaging the gravity simulation, he breathed a sigh of relief, frowning as he eyed the bots once more. He would have to tell the woman they were broken again… something he really hated doing.

* * *

Bulma repressed the urge to scream at Vegeta, instead settling to glare daggers at him from across the lab table. The Saiyan Prince had strolled in, still dripping with sweat and blood from training, with the corpses of her six training bots piled high in his arms.

He was demanding that they be fixed by tomorrow.

Bulma pursed her lips together in a thin line, placing her hands on her hips as she eyed up the pile of metal. She risked a sideways glance at Kaiware, to find that the small woman was smirking, clearly enjoying Bulma's discomfort.

The problem was that they were in a public setting, with all the lab workers listening in on the conversation. If Vegeta had come to her in the privacy of his quarters, she wouldn't have hesitated to yell at him until she turned blue. But in the setting of the labs, with all those eyes on them, it was not possible to yell at the Prince without being classed as someone who disrespected the monarchy. After her last dangerous encounter with the King, Bulma wasn't going to be foolish enough to step outside the boundaries of what was considered acceptable behaviour, despite the fact that she knew Vegeta would never attack her. It wasn't Vegeta's reactions to her that she was afraid of, after all, but those of the other Saiyans.

Vegeta knew that Bulma was cautious to act in an appropriate manner, and Bulma was certain that he had purposely come here with the bots first, rather than going straight to the rejuvenation tanks as was his usual routine, so that he could criticise her without giving her the opportunity to fight back in her usual way.

Well, if that was the case, two could play at that game. Yelling at the Prince in anger wasn't appropriate, but surely beating him in a battle of wits would be okay?

"Well?" Vegeta huffed angrily. "Are you going to make them stronger this time, woman, or have your basic scientific skills met their limit?"

Bulma looked up, meeting Vegeta's eyes with daring fire. He wore the same smirk his mother did, and she knew he was purposely winding her up.

_Fucking Saiyans._

Taking a deep breath, Bulma did her best to rearrange her features into a bright smile. "Of course I'll fix them," she replied calmly. "You said you wanted them fixed by tomorrow morning… are you sure you can't wait until the next day, Vegeta? I was due to stop working in an hour."

Vegeta cocked and eyebrow suspiciously. The woman was up to something, he could tell. Folding his arms across his chest, he replied "I need them tomorrow, woman," adding, "I will not let your stupidity hinder my training."

Expecting something along the lines of this, Bulma waved one of her hands in dismissal. "That's fine, Vegeta," she replied, just the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Of course, it's going to mean I pull an all-nighter." She smirked, knowing she was gaining the upper hand. "Have fun with your hand tonight, because I won't be coming to bed."

With that she turned away, leaving Vegeta spluttering in surprise. Pretending to work at her computer, she heard him mutter something about her being a 'vulgar woman', before stomping out of the labs, his footsteps heavier than usual. When the coast was clear, she looked up to see grins on most of the Saiyan workers' faces, and turned to find Kaiware smiling at her with laughter in her eyes.

Bulma grinned, knowing full well that Vegeta would find a way to make her pay for his embarrassment.

Still, it was worth it.

* * *

Screwing the final bolt in place, Bulma let out a sigh of relief, before engaging her scouter to look at the time. _3 AM… _she thought,_ just peachy._

She leaned back in her chair, tempted just to close her eyes and fall asleep where she was sitting. Looking around, she smiled to herself, feeling very much at home. Parts of various inventions were strewn across the desks, blueprints were lying in rolls, tools sat at the various workstations. It looked so much like her own labs that for a second she thought that she was back on Earth.

She sighed again, enjoying the peace that came from the silent lab. She really was a night owl, she mused with a small smile as she began to pack away her things. Even though she preferred to go to sleep at a decent time, she often found that her best work came out of her early morning hours. There was something about the quietness of the night that seemed to envelop her like a blanket, making everything in her mind click into place.

"You're beginning to sound crazy, Bulma Briefs, and now you're talking to yourself," she mumbled as she capsulized all six bots so that she could leave them out in the kitchen for Vegeta to find in the morning. She hoped he wouldn't come into her room and wake her up, because she was going to sleep in.

Switching off the lights in the lab, she shivered, pulling out the small torch she had built herself. Without any lights on, the palace suddenly didn't seem so peaceful.

She strode out into the corridor, waving her torchlight to and fro. She didn't like the way her footsteps echoed in the dark, and she didn't like the way that the carvings of oozaru seemed to jump out at her from the darkness.

After a minute of walking down the corridor, she came to the first corner. It was still a ten minute walk to Vegeta's quarters, and she was regretting Kaiware's offer to have one of the scientists stay with her until she returned safely to her own rooms.

Her light hit the glaring face of a guard, stationed at his usual post, and she jumped in surprise. He grinned, and after a moment she laughed.

"Hey you," she smiled, recognising the man. She'd struck up a conversation with him in the mess hall a week before, but she couldn't recall his name. He had been friendly enough to her, though, and she felt a little better seeing him. "Got the night shift, eh?"

"Same as you, Lady," he replied.

She nodded, peering up at the man. Like most Saiyans, he was tall, and sported a shaggy mess of black hair. Taking a guess, she figured he'd stand at least seven feet high.

"Why do they have no lights going?" she asked. "I thought they'd at least use the odd light in the hallways, even at this time of night."

The guard shrugged, cocking his head as he considered his answer. "Saiyans can see in the dark, so why would we need lights? We used to keep them on when there was lots of aliens working here, but you're the only one now. Besides, the whole planet is in dark mode, the Palace included."

Bulma nodded, stifling a yawn. "I guess that makes sense," she replied with a shrug. "I better get going. See ya round." As the guard grunted in reply, she continued on her way.

Dark mode was the term the Saiyans used for the fact that they had to conserve power. Bulma had picked that much up in the last ministerial meeting she had attended, and had asked Vegeta questions after. It seemed Vegetasei was having the same sort of energy crisis that the Earth was having, although they didn't rely on fossil fuels to generate power. Whatever it was that they did rely on, they were running out of it, and with the planet on lock down until Frieza's destruction, there was no way of shipping in more from off-world. With the need to conserve what energy they had, turning off the thousands of lights in the palace made sense.

She passed two more guards in the dark, nodding to them silently as she followed the path she now knew well. As she turned another corner she was surprised to find that there wasn't another guard standing in the usual post. She flicked her torchlight around the hallway, the dim light reflecting off red gems embedded in the carved eyes of more stylized oozaru. The missing guard wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Feeling just a little bit scared, Bulma quickened her pace, her footsteps sounding ridiculously loud even to her own ears. She wished suddenly that she could walk like Vegeta; he could move silently when he wanted to, like a cat creeping up on its prey.

At this moment Bulma felt like she _was_ the prey, although she told herself that she was just being silly. It was odd that the guard was missing, though, and a chill ran up her spine, the hairs on her arms beginning to stand as her agitation increased.

She stopped, waving the torchlight around once more. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she closed her eyes, shaking her head in an attempt to calm herself. What was up with her? It was the second time in a week that she was getting creeped out by the dark.

But then she was always a great believer in gut instinct. And right now her intuition was telling her that something wasn't right.

Switching off the torch, she kept her eyes closed, waiting for a minute before opening them. It took a moment to adjust, but there was enough moonlight filtering in from the skylights ahead for her to be able to see the shapes of the statues that lined the hallway, and the marble floor beneath her feet. Without the torchlight, her eyesight was limited to shapes in the dark, but she could see further away than the torchlight could reach.

She turned around to face the direction she had been coming from, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. It was too far way to tell, but she was sure that she could see a figure standing in the middle of the corridor.

Without giving it a second thought, she squeezed her left earring between her thumb and forefinger. Her blue scouter flashed in front of her, decapsulizing over her left ear and eye. Automatically the scouter began scanning for power levels.

It found one.

Bulma turned and sprinted down the hall, her feet pounding on the marble floor. She knew that if the Saiyan wanted to, it could catch her without a moment's hesitation, but running was the only thing she could think of. If she could just get to Vegeta's quarters…

She sped around the corner, her breath rattling in her lungs. Her scouter picked up two more power levels, and for a moment she panicked, until she realised they were just those of the guards stationed outside the door to Vegeta's quarters.

Slowing down, she switched on her torchlight, shining it in the direction of the guards. They squinted angrily, the female one hissing in annoyance.

"Do you have to shine that in our eyes?" the woman asked, her face contorted in anger.

Bulma gulped down another breath, placing one hand over her chest. "Sorry," she breathed. "But I think there was someone back there," she motioned, still breathless. "My scouter picked up on them."

The female guard snorted. "Whatever. The only thing we've picked up or heard is you. You make far too much noise when you move."

Angered and insulted, Bulma slapped a hand against her thigh. "Can you just go check if anyone is there?" she asked harshly.

"I will," the male guard replied, stepping out into the corridor. Bulma watched as he disappeared from sight, listening to his footsteps as they grew fainter. The hallway grew silent, and Bulma wrapped, her arms around herself. She suddenly felt cold.

The guard eventually returned, reappearing into the torchlight. "I don't know what you saw, but there's nothing there. You don't have to worry, Lady. We have the Prince well guarded."

"Well okay," Bulma conceded, although her gut still told her that something wasn't quite right. She pushed open one of the big doors to Vegeta's quarters, turning back to the guards as she held it open. "Goodnight," she spoke softly, letting the door swing closed behind her. With a sigh, she leaned against the doorframe, holding her hand over her heart, willing it to stop beating so damn loudly.

She still couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been watching her.

* * *

Vegeta woke at the sound of the front door opening, and sat up automatically, listening for any further sound. Her heard the woman's voice and relaxed, lying back down after hearing the door click shut again.

He peered at the clock on the wall.

_3:20. _

The woman really had stayed up to finish her job.

He waited to hear her footsteps heading towards her room, but they never came. Frowning, he made a move to get up, but the sound of her finally moving through the quarters stopped him.

His frown deepened as he picked up the movement more clearly. She was heading straight for him. Surely she couldn't want sex at this time of night?

He placed both hands behind his head, waiting for the door to open. He could tell she was hesitating outside the door, but after a moment the handle clicked, and the door swung wide.

His bedroom was the darkest in his quarters, thanks to the thick curtains that blocked out all moonlight, and he knew that she would have trouble seeing into the room. He watched her as she stood there, her eyes looking pale grey in the night, rather than their usual blue, as she stared sightlessly into the black before her. It was odd to watch someone who couldn't actually see, and it made him feel momentarily disgusted with how weak and frail she really was. Anyone could kill her without expending any effort at all.

"I thought you said you would not be coming here tonight, woman," he spoke, and watched her jump in shock, her eyes darting in the vague direction of the bed. "And yet here you are," he added, his voice sounding thick with sleep, even to himself.

He was expecting the woman to give him some sort of jibe back, but she simply stood there, her hands held protectively across her chest. It was then that he notices the way she was standing, and the fear in her eyes. Looking closer, he could see the goose bumps on her skin, and he sat up in response. Something had obviously spooked her.

"What is it that you want, woman?" he asked, realising with disgust that his voice actually sounded soft.

"Can I stay in here tonight?" she whispered, still standing at the door. He froze, considering her request. She was asking to sleep beside him, rather than to have sex. That was something he had avoided, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He was about to tell her that when she blurted "I think someone was following me." He paused, grunting with frustration.

"Why do you think that, woman?"

At Vegeta's question, Bulma paused, trying to frame her answer in a way that didn't make her sound like a coward.

"I just had a gut feeling that something wasn't right," she shrugged. She could finally make out Vegeta's shape, sitting upright in the bed. Seeing his form, with the familiar flame of hair, made her feel better.

She was about to mention the missing guard, but hesitated, remembering the King's actions after she found the baby boy who had escaped his training. She knew that if she mentioned the guard, Vegeta would find out who it was and execute them as punishment, and she didn't want that blood on her hands.

"I turned off my torch," she told him instead, "because I felt like there was something behind me. I waited until my eyes had adjusted, and then turned around, and I swear Vegeta, I saw the shape of a person standing behind me. I even turned on my scouter, and it picked up a power level."

Vegeta snorted, shaking his head. "And what did you do next, woman?" he asked.

"I ran here."

Vegeta chuckled in disbelief, continuing to shake his head. "Woman you are foolish," he told her. "You are telling me that you, a person who is clearly blind in the dark- and I know this for a fact-" he added, "turned off her only form of light- her _only way of seeing things_- and then '_saw_' a '_shape_' in the darkness?"

"I'm not completely blind Vegeta!" she replied, crossing her arms in front of her. He smirked, knowing that she was getting angry. "I can actually see some things in the dark; I can see you, for instance!"

"Really?" he asked incredulously. "You can see me right now? Tell me then, how many fingers am I holding up?"

He laughed outright at her scowl, while she just mumbled something about it not being funny. He shook his head again, more amused than he had been in a long time.

"Woman," he began, "like I said, you are a foolish creature. You have no night vision. You cannot outrun even the weakest Saiyan. You're instincts are pathetic. I know that by some freak of nature, your species sits near the top of the food chain on your planet, but compared to Saiyans, you are nothing but an insect. If there was a person following you, they would have attacked you. They would have caught you when you ran. Your 'gut feelings' are clearly just a manifestation of your aversion to the dark, and the fact that you saw what you think was a person is obviously your mind seeing what it wants to believe." When she opened her mouth to protest, he pushed on. "You are standing here unharmed, and the guards are still on duty outside. Obviously, there was no one following you. If there was, you would already be dead."

"Perhaps they wanted something other than to kill me?" she asked, and he could see argument burning in her eyes.

"No, woman. Now it is late, so I am going to sleep. Go back to your own room."

He lay down, giving her his back, and smirked as she yelled "Argh, fine! Don't listen to me, you jerk!"

He waited for her to go, but instead all he heard was the rustle of fabric as it slid off her body and dropped to the floor. He heard another sound, one he had begun to associate with the clips of her bra contraptions, and he rolled his eyes. She was such a stubborn creature.

"I'm not going, Vegeta," she said, unzipping the fly of her jeans. He heard her kick off her shoes, the _sneakers_, as she called them, clunking one by one against the nearest wall.

He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard her pants drop to the floor. Where was his will power? He should have been throwing her out of the room, instead of letting her have this victory. But the more she disrobed, the stronger the smell of her skin became, and it was too damn good to ignore.

He rolled onto his back as he felt her crawling across the bed, and he pulled the sheets off him, feeling himself grow hard as she moved towards him with nothing on but the flimsy fabric between her legs. He grabbed her by the arm, and she yelped as he pulled her until she was lying flush against him, her sweet breath tickling his neck.

"Foolish woman," he whispered, and smirked against the skin of her shoulder as he felt a shiver run through her, "afraid of things in the dark." He brushed his hands up her arms, trailing them down her back until they reached the lace fabric she was wearing. He gave it one definite tug, tearing it right off her, and groaned as skin touched skin.

Flipping them over in a movement that made her gasp, he settled himself between her legs, using his tail to hold her hands above her head. She arched her back, pressing herself against him, and he growled, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

"Foolish woman," he began again. "You should know the most dangerous being of all is me."

* * *

A lone figure moved silently in the dark, carefully shifting the glass of the skylight back into place. The operation had gone smoothly, and the only thing left to do now was to return to the master with the body.

Creeping along the outside of the palace, the figure made its way down to the gardens, careful to always avoid the attention of the guards. It carried the corpse of the palace guard in their arms, the dead man's body shrouded in black cloth.

It did not take long for the figure to reach the outer wall of the palace, and then it was a simple enough task to leap silently over the wall. They ran away from the palace, waiting until they were far enough away to begin flying, remaining low to the ground to ensure that they weren't detected.

Heading east, they switched on their black scouter, waiting for their master to answer.

A deep voice crackled over the scouter. "Did you accomplish your task?" it asked without any form of greeting.

"Yes, my lord," the woman replied smoothly, looking down at the wrapped up body in her hands. "That was too easy." To herself, the woman added, _although the Earthling is more intuitive than I expected. We will have to be more careful from now on._

Static crackled in her ear.

"Good."


	26. On Edge

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z (but thanks to xmas and wonderful hubby, now possess the entire manga collection- thanks hun!)**

**A/N:** 26/12/11- Yikes, yikes, yikes! I had not intended to take so long between updates again! I am sorry, and thank you to everyone who is still sticking with this. Between losing half this chapter (broken laptop- now it's fixed) university (finished my law degree, woo!) and all the other muses that are very, very pesky, I just got a bit blocked with this story again. Hopefully it won't happen again!

* * *

**Chapter 26: On Edge**

The door clicked shut, leaving the King of Saiyans alone in his spacious office. He rubbed his face tiredly, despite the fact that the day was still young.

Zorn- his most trusted ally, and one of the few living Saiyans who knew the true extent of the legacy that the former King of Saiyans left behind- had just informed him of rather unsettling news.

"_I will see to it that the Authorities look into the disappearance, Your Grace," _Zorn's voice echoed in his head. _"And you need not worry; no one will know of the connection between you and the guard."_

"Better not," the King grunted, reaching for his decanter. He poured out a generous serving of liquor and downed it in one gulp, feeling the strong amber liquid burn down his throat before warming the pit of his stomach.

Despite the drink, the worry still remained. He would put it aside; he had many more matters to deal with, after all, and yet…

The disappearance of his bastard brother- a young palace guard- had not been expected. It was certainly true that the man could have defected, as Zorn suggested. But it made no sense- he knew the man well, and knew him to be a loyal soldier, and above that, a loyal brother, despite the fact that the true nature of his parentage remained a secret to the general public.

It did not make sense. Cron had disappeared into thin air, and apparently no one had seen a thing.

. . .

Bulma winced, lowering herself slowly into the huge bathtub that sat in the corner of Vegeta's private bathroom. It was already two in the afternoon, but despite the fact that she had slept in, she still felt exhausted. She closed her eyes, relaxing back in the tub, and revelled in the sensation of the hot water that left her skin tingling and her breath tight in her chest.

Slowly, she skimmed her hands up and over the tops of her breasts, enjoying the feel of her own body as her mind replayed the events of the night before. Her fingers continued on their path downwards, caressing the flat plains of her stomach, pausing just above the juncture of her thighs. She could still feel the ghost of Vegeta's hands on her skin, the touch of his lips against her stomach, and the graze of his teeth over her nipples. She hummed to herself, remembering the way he had kissed her in the dark, and she licked her lips, knowing that they were still red with the tell-tale signs of hours of lip locking.

She'd never had such passionate sex before. With Vegeta she lost control of herself, giving into every craving and desire she could ever dream of. He was animalistic; biting, clawing, and growling, and in the madness she found herself crying alongside him, digging her nails into his skin with the intent to mark him as hers. It had never been like that with Yamcha.

_Yamcha._

She shifted, stirring the water around her as the feeling in her chest turned from pleasure to guilt and stress. She'd tried her best to ignore the reality of her situation, but in the silence of the bathroom, she had no choice but to face herself for what she really was. She had willingly climbed into bed with the man responsible for Yamcha's death, and now she lay here in the murderer's bathtub, remembering all the pleasure they had together. What did that make her? What kind of person looked past the murder of billions of people, as if it meant nothing?

A gust of wind blew in through the high windows above the bathtub, and she shivered, an ominous chill running up her spine. She ducked her head under the water to rid herself of the feeling, but even as she resurfaced, she still had the unnerving sense that she wasn't quite alone, as if the walls themselves were watching. Her relaxed mood thoroughly ruined, she scrubbed her hair quickly with shampoo and ducked her head under the water once more to rinse the foam out.

Clean once more, she clambered out of the tub and grabbed at the nearest towel, hastily scrubbing her skin dry. The logical part of her mind told her that she was simply being paranoid- an after-effect of the night before- and yet the spacious bathroom suddenly seemed too small, and far too silent. She'd had this feeling before; an irrational panic that would begin in the middle of the night, or on a dark street, or in an empty forest. The feeling that something sinister was lurking about was a product of her imagination, no doubt, and yet it scared her to death.

She wrapped the towel around her quickly, ignoring the fact that her hair was still dripping wet, and moved briskly through Vegeta's bedroom and down the hall, across the front living space and to her own room.

"It's nothing," she whispered to herself, although she couldn't quite shake the ominous feeling that seemed to have turned Vegeta's wing from a safe haven to something she wanted to escape. In her mind she replayed the events of the night before, remembering the dark shadow in the hall. She had been _certain_ that there had been a person there, but she failed to recall any further details except her general sense of panic, and in the light of day she had to admit that she _had_ been sleep-deprived, and could easily have seen things that weren't really there.

She pulled on a singlet and jeans mindlessly, her mind occupied with thoughts of the night before. A bug landed briefly on her arm, distracting her, and she yelped and swatted at it as it bit her, leaving a small, bleeding wound just below her shoulder.

"_Shit_," she hissed, dabbing at the cut with a tissue. She grabbed her hairbrush and ran it through her hair quickly, muttering darkly about all the odd alien creatures on the planet. Fully dressed, she left Vegeta's quarters without a second glance, happy that she had a full afternoon of work ahead to keep her mind off all of her unsettling thoughts.

. . .

When Bulma re-entered Vegeta's quarters that night, the Saiyan Prince reassured her that nothing dark lay lurking in his apartment, and given his newfound ability to sense ki- he had practiced at it ever since she had mentioned her friends' abilities to him on Namek- she was inclined to believe him.

An uneasy sense _had_ remained in her mind even as she sat amidst a pile of blueprints on the living room floor, working the evening away, but that had disappeared quickly as soon as Vegeta had strolled naked and dripping from his shower into the room, sporting a very stiff looking erection and giving her one of _those_ looks that meant she should do something about it.

She hadn't complained.

"How are the new bots?" she asked much later, lazily, brushing her lips against his shoulder. Vegeta shifted above her and grunted in a tone that she understood to mean _acceptable_, and she sighed in contentment, feeling her whole body relax back against her bed. She replayed the night in her mind, trying to recall how they'd ended up in her room, and a small laugh escaped her lips as she finally remembered. Vegeta's teeth grazed the column of her neck, bringing her back to the present, and she licked his earlobe in reply.

He was already hardening again- she could feel it pressed against her thigh, and she shifted her legs underneath him, giving him easy access as she began to trail a hand down the path of his spine to the base of his tail. Her lips twitched in a faint smile as he groaned under her teasing touch, his tail puffing out in a fuzz of dark brown as she ran her fingers up through the fur, pulling the appendage through her hand until she reached the tip. She scratched at the small mound that hid under the fur there- the gland responsible for the oozaru transformation- and was rewarded with an answering thrust between her legs that left her gasping for more.

The next half hour gave no opportunities for discussion of her training bots, and by the time they were through- the activities of the evening having left her feeling utterly boneless- her mind was sufficiently fuddled to have forgotten all about robots, training regimes, and the fact that Vegeta was currently on Frieza's Most Wanted list.

Sometime later she opened her eyes as the chest under her cheek began to move. She muttered incoherently as hands lay her back on the bed, and squinted up at Vegeta's rising form.

"Thought you were staying the night," she mumbled with closed eyes, having decided it was too much effort to keep them open.

"No."

She hummed in acknowledgement of having heard his answer, though by this point she didn't care _what_ it was that he had said. She felt as if she were floating on a sea of clouds, and nuzzled further into the pillow beneath her head, surrendering once more to sleep.

. . .

Karo woke with a start, her right hand automatically slapping down on her left forearm. Despite being a half breed, she could see as well in the dark as any full-blooded Saiyan, though without the presence of light, everything appeared to be washed in shades of grey. Lifting her hand from her arm, she could see the small smear of blood- a product of a fresh fly bite- that in the darkness appeared black against her pale skin.

She hadn't moved fast enough to crush the insect, and her eyes scanned her bedspread, and then the room, searching for any sign of movement. Most insects on Vegetasei were relatively harmless, but the idea of waking up in the morning to find her body covered in bite marks had her getting out of bed and shaking her sheets out, just in case.

Job done and sheets laid neatly back on the bed, she moved to hop back under the blankets when a buzzing past her ear had her whipping around and swatting at the offending creature. The small black dot escaped out the open window before she had a chance to catch it, however, leaving her glaring in its wake.

The sky outside was already growing light, and feeling restless, she decided that there was no point in even trying to fall back asleep. Instead, she pulled on a fresh dress and brushed through her long, fine hair, before leaving the comforting warmth of her private rooms.

The guard outside her door looked surprised to see her out so early, and she smiled apologetically at the older woman, before continuing down the hall. At first she had only meant to take a stroll about the gardens, where she could almost imagine being free of the palace walls and the ever-watchful gazes of the palace guards. Coming to the door that led through to her father's private wing, however, she acted on impulse and nodded at the two guards that stood outside her father's chambers. They too looked surprised, though not concerned, and pushed the ancient hardwood door open for her.

She winced as the door swung closed behind her with a bang that echoed against the walls, and her tail swished behind her nervously. The noise would have woken her father for sure, and he was sure to yell at her for it.

She pushed the next door open with more care and entered the first reception room within her father's wing, her eyes automatically darting in the direction of her father's bedroom. She jumped as her gaze landed on her father himself, standing only in a pair of loose shorts, his dark eyes boring into her with an angry intensity.

"I…" she began, blood blooming beneath her cheeks. She paused, uncertain of what to say, words- _I didn't mean to wake you, I wanted to talk with you, I missed you these past years, when you were down in Hell, and I was in Heaven_- all stuck in her throat.

Quite suddenly her face felt hot, and her eyes burnt with unshed tears. In the weeks since their return to Vegetasei she had hardly spoken to her father, instead carrying on with the routine that she had had in her previous life; spending hours in the palace library, in her small private patch of garden, or watching all the exotic animals her father had amassed over the years in the palace zoo. Now, stepping foot in her father's rooms for the first time in decades, she finally acknowledged the loneliness she had tried her best to ignore, intensified by the fact that all her father's alien women- ladies that she had known and loved her whole life- were still dead.

Embarrassed by the tears, which had by this point broken free and ran streaming down her cheeks, she turned away and all but ran for the ottoman that sat under the large bay window in her father's expansive living room. There she curled herself into a ball, shoulders hunched against the world, and focused her eyes on the distant horizon. She heard her father's footsteps as he crossed the carpet towards her, but didn't dare turn to face him, knowing that like all Saiyans he detested such displays of weakness. The thought forced a sob out of her throat before she could stop it, and her body shook with suppressed emotion.

Her father had stopped behind her. She turned her face away from him as he sat down beside her, and although he made no noise, she could feel the burn of his gaze on her. Waiting for him to make some remark on the uselessness of tears, she jumped when his hand landed gently on her shoulder, smoothed its way across her back, and wrapped around her, drawing her back against him. Instinctively she turned to face him, not bothering to hide the tears any longer, and sobbed loudly against his warm chest, taking comfort in the strong arm that wrapped around her.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, but when her sobs had mostly subsided, and her father's chest was drenched in tears, she lifted her head a little to see that both suns had now risen, and sat glowing above the horizon.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about, child," her father spoke softly, the deep gravel tone of his voice soothing in its familiarity, "or do I have to read your mind?"

She gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "Can you?" she asked, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek once more against him. He smelled the same as he always had, spicy and strong, and this close to him she felt the same as she had as a small child, when he would occasionally hold her.

That had been so long ago.

"Can I read minds?" he rumbled. "No; I am a warrior, not a psychic. You'll have to speak."

She paused, feeling shy once again, but she had already cried all over him, so decided there wasn't much point in holding back now. "I missed you, father," she whispered, and another sob racked through her. "I had never thought before, before we died, about where we would go, and then…" She took a deep breath, pressed herself further against her father, trying her best to maintain her sense of calm. "I am more afraid of death now than I ever was before, because I know that next time will be permanent, and I will spend eternity in Heaven, and you will spend eternity…" she paused, unable to say the word, and another sob escaped her lips as a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

Her father's arm had tightened around her, his fingers digging painfully into her arm.

They sat in silence, the suns of Vegetasei shining down on them.

. . .

Chi Chi paced back and forth in the small bathroom, the locked door a thankful barrier from the screaming children, moody adults and general nervous atmosphere that filled the Capsule Corp. ship. She took a deep breath, then another, and placed her hands flat on the bathroom sink, peering at herself in the mirror.

_My breasts do look a little bigger,_ she thought, examining her chest and trying her best to compare her image in the mirror to the memory in her mind,_ and they have been more tender than usual._

"Damn you Goku," she muttered with a frown, although the sentence was accompanied immediately by the thought_ Please let him be okay._

She never could stay angry at her husband for too long. His good-natured personality, cheerful smile, and all-round innocence always melted away any icy thoughts in her heart.

But now… now she could only hope that she was wrong, could only hope that it was stress, and not her husband's stupid, impulsive decision to try for another child that had caused her period to be over a week late.

"Oh please, Kami," she whispered, despite the fact that Kami was currently the size of a toddler, who spent all day running around with the other children. "Please, don't let me be pregnant."

She was only just holding herself together as it was. With no home, no _planet_, and her husband halfway across the universe, the last thing she needed right now was to be pregnant. She wasn't sure how the Saiyans would treat her husband, let alone their odd group of refugees, but was certain of one thing; she could not trust people who would send innocent babies light years away to act as murderous weapons.

She didn't dare think about the fact that Goku was born as one of them, and she refused, though it pressed firmly at the back of her mind, to acknowledge the question of what these aliens might do or want with her son, who also shared their blood.

_He is mine_, she thought, one hand pressed over her belly, suddenly remembering the feel of her son as he had grown inside of her, their connection one of blood and love and flesh.

_They have no claim over him._

. . .

Launch peered up through her dark blue bangs as Chi Chi stormed past, and frowned worriedly at the younger woman. Everyone's nerves were on high, which was understandable, being cramped in the spaceship and all, but Chi Chi had a bad temper that had a tendency to flare up at the most unexpected of things, and Launch always found herself feeling especially nervous around the Ox Princess.

_Well, maybe not always_, she admitted to herself, peering down at her notebook. The top of the page was headed with yesterday's date in a messy scrawl that was so unlike her own handwriting that no one would ever believe that it had been written by her hand.

Except that it had.

She shook her head, reading the other Launch's messy words. _Today I'm going to kill Son Chi Chi_, it read. _I've got my automatic ready and loaded. Also, I'm going to seduce Tien once and for all._

"Oh dear," she whispered to herself, picking up her pen and marking today's date in the diary. Being a shape shifter with Multiple Personality Disorder was extremely difficult, and the only way she managed to keep track of what her other self did was through communicating in their notebook. She had learnt to get over what the other Launch did long ago, but every now and then there'd be an entry in the diary that was either extremely embarrassing, or very, very bad.

At least, she conceded, her personality _and_ looks changed every time she sneezed. She'd never been thrown in jail for something Blonde Launch had done, and no detective had ever connected her doe eyes and deep blue hair to Blonde's golden waves and bright green glare.

Still… it wasn't good being trapped inside this ship with all these people, knowing full well that her blonde self had probably offended every single one of them already.

She chewed on the end of her pen thoughtfully. _I think you should let Tien be_, she wrote in the diary, taking care to dot every 'i' with a love heart. _If he's interested, he will make a move. Did you ever read that book I left out for you? He's Just Not That Into You really is a good read, Blonde_, she added. She paused, thinking things over. Tien had a nice build, but she found his third eye a little creepy, and couldn't really imagine being in a relationship with him. He always seemed to treat her with caution, anyway, which made her wonder exactly _what_ her other self had done. _We need to find a guy who wants all of us- both of us,_ she wrote, hoping that for once, Blonde would obey her words. _Also, please don't kill anyone. _

_Love, Launch_, she finished off, and drew a smiley face, before closing the small black book and slipping it beside the rest of her belongings. Then she stood up, fluffed out her hair, and chanted her daily good-luck mantra.

"Today I will not sneeze," she whispered repetitively under her breath, too caught up in her own world to see the odd looks she received from the ship's other passengers.

. . .

Krillin didn't need the ship's computer to tell them that they were approaching Vegetasei. He'd first sensed the mass of evil ki days ago, and the sense of foreboding doom had only grown from there. Now he stood watching the image of the blood red planet on the ship's computer screen, feeling sick to his stomach as the computer announced that landing would commence in no more than ten minutes.

"Are you ready?" he asked, peering up at Goku. The taller man had his game face on, which said more than words ever could about the gravity of their situation. If Goku was worried about something… well, usually that meant things were going to be pretty tough.

"I don't think I'd ever be ready for this, Krillin," Goku said, his voice deep and serious. Krillin wasn't sure whether Goku was referring to the fact that they were about to land on a planet that practically glowed with the dark ki of evil beings, or the fact that the planet that they were about to land on was actually the place where Goku was born, or the fact that pretty soon- if everything went to plan- they would be breaking the bad news about the Earth to Bulma, and then asking the Saiyans, who weren't known for mercy, whether the surviving Earthlings could stay on Vegetasei for a while.

Krillin gulped. No matter which way you looked at it, their situation at the moment seemed pretty shit, and he had a bad, bad feeling that it was about to get a lot worse.

. . .

"Do you know what's going on between those two?" Bulma asked, peering down at the Gure's bald head. She had been walking through the palace with both Tarble and his wife when they had bumped into Vegeta, who had come striding down an adjacent corridor. Both Saiyan men had immediately bristled at the sight of one another- literally- before Tarble had huffed and pushed past his brother, striding angrily away. Vegeta had whirled around in turn, barked something at Tarble's back in an alien language, and had then stormed past the two women without any acknowledgement, leaving them both blinking with surprise.

"No," Gure replied, shaking her head and avoiding Bulma's eye. Bulma pursed her lips, noticing that while Gure looked worried, she didn't look confused, and figured that the little alien _did_ in fact know what was going on.

"Is it why I've hardy seen you and Tarble all week?" she pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Gure a hard look. The alien's beady eyes widened nervously, fresh blood tinting the pale skin of her cheeks.

"You know, I just remembered I have to tell Tarble something!" she squeaked, turning and running in the direction of her husband. Shocked, Bulma watched Gure's retreating figure for a moment, before her mind kicked into gear once more.

"Oh come on!" Bulma yelled, her voice echoing in the cavernous hallway. "You can tell me! I'm your friend! _Gure!_" She huffed and crossed her arms, not bothering to follow after the alien, who had now turned a corner and was already out of sight.

Looking up, she noticed that one of the place guards was staring at her as if she had two heads, and glared angrily. "What are _you_ looking at?" she snapped, before storming off with a small "_Hmf!_"

She had noticed, of course, the odd tension between the two Saiyan Princes, but had assumed that it was due only to the fact that the brothers had not seen each other since they were both young children. But it had been six days since Tarble had last visited Vegeta in his apartment, and the younger Prince, although always cordial, had seemed in a much darker mood this week than he had before, making Bulma suspect that something much more serious had actually occurred between the two brothers. With a sigh, she resolved to speak to Vegeta about it later, and headed out towards the palace gardens in the hope of catching some sun.

Her afternoon _had_ begun peacefully enough, but the rest of it passed in a blur. Though she had taken the afternoon off at Gure's request, she managed barely fifteen minutes in the gardens before her scouter went off, calling her back to the labs in an emergency. Kaiware had been missing on some _business_ errand with the King- Bulma had rolled her eyes when one of the scientists told her that, emphasising the word 'business' in a way that made clear exactly what those two were up to- and as a result Bulma had spent the following few hours fixing up an experiment gone wrong.

She was almost ready to call it a day when the sound of voices rising in panic, and the thudding of running feet alerted her to a commotion in the corridor outside the labs. Poking her head out the door, she found herself watching as an entire troop of soldiers ran down the hall, all heading for the nearest exit.

"What's going on?" she yelled, but received no reply. The words 'ship', 'alien' attack' and 'Frieza' were said loud and often enough, however, for Bulma to catch them over the sound of the stampede, and she reached her own conclusion that some spacecraft had landed on the planet.

"Impossible!" she hissed, running back to her own desk station in the lab. Fingers darting across the keyboard, she pulled up the latest data from the satellites she had hooked into when she had first arrived on Vegetasei. Just as she had expected, given the fact that no alarms had gone off on her computer, the satellites hadn't registered anything entering the planet's atmosphere.

She frowned, and checked the satellite connections, just to make sure that everything was working. Nothing appeared broken, and the data log noted only Tarble's ship arriving, two weeks before.

She had made sure that _everything_ coming in would be picked up by the equipment, using the same kind of security system that she had worked on with her father in order to protect Capsule Corporation and all of their trade secrets. It was the most advanced security system in the world, and she was certain that only someone who knew exactly how it was made could make something that could shield a ship from it.

The thought sent a jolt through her, making her gasp. If only she and her father knew enough of the technology to get around it…

"It can't be," she whispered, even as hope bloomed through her, threaded with worry. For how could anyone from Earth have found Vegetasei, a planet that- according to all records- no longer existed?

And what would that mean for her, if they had?


End file.
